Someone to Save You
by deanstheman
Summary: A trap set for Sam lands Dean in hot water. As Sam races to save his brother, the Winchesters find themselves being used as pawns in a brewing demon war. And what does this have to do with Yellow-Eyes and his special kids? Set in season 2 between canon events.
1. Double Vision

_**Summary**__: A trap set for Sam lands Dean in hot water. As Sam races to save his brother, the Winchesters find themselves being used as pawns in a brewing demon war. And what does this have to do with Yellow-Eyes and his special kids? Set in season 2. Set between canon events._

_**Set-up:**__ Set in Season 2 – so John is dead but Yellow-Eyes is still alive and the boys are still trying to find out what his 'plans' for Sam are. __Takes place right after 'Hunted' (when Gordon Walker comes after Sam and Sam meets Ava) so it's also after 'Croatoan' (the demon virus episode) and 'Simon Said' (where they meet Andy). This fic is intended to have Sam and Dean in equal measure, though from my notes so far, it may end up just a little bit more Sam than Dean. There are OC's but the entire story is written from only Sam and Dean's perspective._

_**Spoilers & Warnings**__: Major spoilers for seasons 1 & 2 but possible spoilers right up to the end of season 4. Some swearing (more than the show). _

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

**CHAPTER 1 - DOUBLE VISION**

_**January 2007**_

Peaceful sleep was becoming a rare occurrence for the Winchester brothers. It had been twelve days since they found out Sam was immune to a demon version of viral warfare. Eight days since Gordon Walker had tried to kill Sam, claiming he was fair game in the hunting world. Seven days since Ava Wilson, another of the Yellow-Eyed Demon's psychic kids, had disappeared leaving nothing but traces of sulfur and her fiancé's bloody corpse. Ten days since Dean had broken down and told Sam what their father's dying confession had been.

_If you can't save Sam, then you might have to kill him_.

Dean's attempts at sleep were plagued with worry for his brother; worry about Yellow-Eyes' plans, worry that other hunters would see Sam as a monster also, and worry he wouldn't be able to protect or 'save' him. He had tried to convince Sam to lay low, for the two of them to just walk away from this life and hope the chaos and impending shitstorm would just pass them by, but dammit if Sammy hadn't always been a stubborn son of a bitch. The kid insisted on taking this thing head on, on charging right into the fray and going on the offensive, determined to figure out what this was all about or die trying. Dean didn't like the plan but he would stick with Sam no matter what came their way; that much he did know. Wasn't like he knew how to do any different.

As the Impala purred along the California highway, he stole a sideways glance at his passenger, whose head was tipped sideways against the car's side window, uncut bangs hanging down and almost covering his closed eyes. Sam had drifted off immediately after hitting the highway, a sure sign of how exhausted he was these days. Dean breathed a grateful sigh that the kid was finally getting some undisturbed sleep.

He was wrong.

_A bowling alley...  
__A young man in his early twenties drinking a Coke and wearing a staff uniform...  
__He's saying goodbye to a man in his forties, a coworker...  
__A neon sign, Cooley's Cool Bowlerama...  
__He's walking through a deserted parking lot, California license plates...  
__He's tripping on a bowling ball...  
__Another ball is flying through the air, hitting him in the stomach...  
__A third ball crushes his skull._

Sam awoke with a start, his hand jerking so hard he smashed it into the door handle and in turn making Dean jump.

"Dude, what the hell?"

Sam ignored the question, scrambling for his phone from his jacket pocket, completely unaware of the pained expression still twisting up his face.

"Sam?" Dean pressed more urgently. "What's going on? You have another one of your weirdo visions?"

Sam just nodded, letting slide the insensitive term Dean had penned his psychic-kid-related visions. "Cooley's Cool Bowlarama," he said aloud,trying to commit every last detail of his dream to memory for future reference. "I think it's here in California." He entered the name into Google Search on his phone, hoping for a match.

"Don't keep me in the dark here," Dean growled impatiently. "What did you see?"

Sam described his dream vision and directed Dean to take the next exit to turn around and head back east. "It's in Lancaster and I think it was around dusk so we should have enough time. It's barely two o'clock now."

Dean's mouth was drawn in a tight line but he followed Sam's direction without argument. "Okay, so do we think this guy was one of Yellow-Eyes' psychic kids?" he asked, his tone making it abundantly clear he would rather they turn tail and run in the opposite direction.

Sam shook his head, grateful at least that Dean had agreed to try and get to the bottom of these visions, however reluctantly. His fingers pressed to his temple in a vain attempt to ease the pain he was feeling as he answered. "No, if the pattern holds, then Ava saw the psychic kids when they were about to die. I seem to see their victims when they... you know." He cut himself off, not wanting to say the words 'turn evil' out loud.

"When they go postal?" Dean finished for him.

Sam swallowed. _Thanks Dean, always with the abundance of tact. _

"Sammy, we've been over this," Dean continued without pause. "That's not gonna happen to you."

Sam wasn't up for this discussion again, wasn't up for the wary and creeped-out expression that inevitability came over his brother's face whenever the topic was psychic-related. Instead he steered the subject back to the details of the vision as the Impala hit the highway ramp again to head east. They were only a couple of hours out of Lancaster, having finished a case in Barstow this afternoon and barely having started to head west towards Vegas before the interruption.

Impersonating local police, Sam called the bowling alley for a list of employees and got to work looking them up through the DMV database, trying to find out the identity of the bowling ball victim. He had a name inside fifteen minutes. Greg Kingsley, a twenty-one year old part-time employee with a drug trafficking record and two domestic assault charges against his girlfriend.

"Nice guy," Dean snorted. "And we're saving him why?"

"Dean," Sam admonished. "We don't know...ahh!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as the now familiar searing pain of a vision tore through him.

_Girl with a motorcycle helmet...  
__She's going into a diner, sign on the door reads Good Grub Café...  
__Ordering from a waitress, nametag 'Giselle'...  
__Going back outside, getting on her bike, pulling out onto the road...  
__The bike is starting to steer itself, she's trying to take control back…  
__She's panicking, crossing the yellow line...  
__Slams head on into a pick-up truck._

"Sam! Sam!"

Dean's voice and the shock of the abrupt, violent end to the vision snapped Sam back to the present. He was struggling for air and his head was pounding worse than it had with any vision yet.

"Dude, your nose is bleeding," Dean blurted, his hand gripping Sam's shoulder, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and the road. "You okay?"

He attempted a reassuring nod but failed miserably, nothing but a strangled gasp making it past his lips. Before he could voice any opposition, Dean was pulling over on the shoulder of the highway and throwing the Impala in park.

"What the hell was that, Sammy?"

"Vision," Sam managed.

"_**Another**_ vision? Since when do they come two at a time?" Dean's voice was angry but Sam knew it was fear talking. "It about the same guy?"

Sam shook his head, still struggling to clear his head and calm his breathing. "No… someone else. A girl."

"Well that's just awesome," Dean snarled, his fingers still wrapped in the shoulder of Sam's shirt. "One at a time wasn't enough?"

They sat in silence for a long minute while Sam pulled himself together, Dean's patience noticeably thin and his worry noticeably thick. Sam's visions were usually bad - painful and incapacitating - but this one had been the worst by far. He ran the back of his hand under his nose and wiped the blood on his shirt, keenly aware of his big brother's eyes still glued on him.

He finally nodded and Dean retracted his hand slowly, giving him a questioning look.

"A diner," he breathed, pulling his phone back out of his pocket. "Good Grub Café. Somewhere in the south coz I saw Palm trees."

"And?"

"And there was a biker chick. She went into the diner, ate, then when she left, her bike seemed to get a mind of its own and it drove her right into oncoming traffic."

Dean rubbed his hand down across his face. "So who do we save?" he asked, looking back at the road and the passing cars. "The douchebag who beats women or the victim of reincarnated Christine?" He attempted a smirk but it wasn't fooling anybody. "Tattoos aren't really my thing but you know where my vote lies."

"We save both," Sam blurted, staring down at his phone, unable to believe his luck. "Good Grub Café is right here in California too. It's in Burbank. If we're fast, we can swing by there and still make it to Lancaster by dusk. One of us can stay there and intervene with the girl on the bike and the other can continue on to warn the guy at the bowling alley."

"What? No. No, we stick together."

"Dean, with this detour, we're gonna be pressed for time. We have no choice."

"Then we make a choice. Jax Teller's girlfriend or the wife beater. You pick."

"Dean…"

"Sam."

"Dean!" Sam was getting frustrated. He knew his brother was just being protective but ridiculously so, as usual. He took a deep breath. "This has something to do with the demon that killed Mom, the demon that has 'plans for me', remember? We _**need**_ to find out what those plans are so we can stop them. We've hit a dead end and both these visions could be leads. We need to run _**every**_ lead we get, you know that. I mean, these events are too far apart to be caused by the same person so we need to check out both of them. This could lead us to more psychic kids, more _**answers!**_"

He could see the tense muscles of Dean's jaw twitching in disapproval but the elder Winchester threw the Impala in gear and maneuvered her back out onto the road. "Fine," he conceded curtly.

Another hour and they reached the outskirts of Burbank. Dean followed Sam's directions through the busy streets to the Good Grub Café, the plan being to drop Sam off while Dean continued on to the bowling alley in Lancaster. Sam was nervous about the lack of time. The city traffic had slowed them down and Dean would be hard pressed to reach Greg Kingsley before the man's head was smashed in by a supernaturally-propelled bowling ball. On top of that, he had no idea what time the girl would be at the café; they may have already missed her.

He directed Dean to the street the diner was on, recognizing the sign as they approached. "That's it," he announced with relief. "I'll get out here… oh wait, dude, that's her!"

"Who?"

"The girl from my vision. That's her." He nodded towards a blonde girl about his age getting off a red sport bike parked in front of the diner, shaking her long hair loose as she removed her helmet.

"_**That's**_ your biker chick?"

"Yeah. This is good, man; it means we haven't missed her. I was worried we wouldn't be in time." He pulled on the door handle but paused and turned back to his brother. "You remember the details, right?"

"What?" Dean was clearly distracted by the blonde.

Sam rolled his eyes. "The bowling alley, Dean, the details of the vision… Dean!"

Dean's green eyes met his hazel ones and a grin spread over his face. "Dude, we're switching. I'll help Motorcycle Mama here and you can go save Mr. Lowlife in Lancaster."

Sam groaned at his brother's predictability but knew he didn't have the time to argue. "Don't scare her off," he warned, imagining his brother getting a slap in the face and the blonde taking off on the bike just to get away from Dean's advances. "Just keep her off the bike."

They both got out and passed each other at the front of the car as Sam made his way round to the driver's side. "Keep me posted," Sam said over the hood. "And don't… don't be too… _**you**_."

Dean's grin grew wider. "You giving me advice on talking to chicks, Sam? Really?"

Sam gave one last roll of the eyes and sank into the Impala, leaning over when a sharp knock sounded on the passenger window. He rolled it open and his brother leaned in. "What did she order?" Dean asked.

"Huh?"

"The chick. What did she order in the diner?"

"Uhhh, just pecan pie with ice cream."

"Kay. I'll call you soon." With that, Dean gave the window sill a dismissive double tap and walked away, disappearing into the rundown café.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

It was already dusk by the time Sam pulled into the parking lot of Cooley's Cool Bowlarama. It was just as he had seen it in his vision and he didn't see a body with a crushed skull on the pavement. _Good, he was on time._

He parked the Impala at the far edge of the parking lot and got out, his eyes scanning the place for any lurking would-be killers. Killers that used to be ordinary people until Yellow-Eyes singled them out, chose them for his 'special plans' - people just like him.

He didn't see anybody so he headed towards the back door of the alley where Greg Kingsley would be exiting. He had taken no more than three steps forward, however, when the door opened and Greg walked out. The young man barely glanced at the tall hunter approaching him, oblivious to the tragic fate he had almost walked into. Sam took a sideways step to block his path and Greg stopped abruptly, his head snapping up with a frown.

"Greg Kingsley?" Sam greeted him.

"Yeah. Who the fuck are you?"

Sam flashed a fake FBI badge, hoping it would be believable even without the suit that he hadn't had the time to change into. "Special Agent Roth. Can I speak to you for a moment?"

"What for? Did that bitch Donna say I did something to Chelsea again?" His lips curled into a snarl. This guy clearly had a quick temper. "I didn't do nothing. You just ask Chelsea. I didn't touch her. She fell."

"Uh, this isn't about that," Sam replied. "Can we go somewhere private for a moment and talk? Maybe inside?" He needed to get the guy out of the parking lot – away from the scene of the would-be crime.

Greg frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "I ain't going nowhere unless you got a warrant. You got a warrant?"

Sam pursed his lips. "I'm not arresting you," he explained impatiently. "I just need to ask you some questions."

"Ask away, G-man," Greg answered, stepping sideways and shoving roughly past the taller man. "You got 'til I reach my car."

Sam glanced nervously around again and followed, catching up to Greg with two strides of his long legs. "I think you should just…" His let the suggestion drop when a bowling ball rolled across their path, tripping Greg into a stumble. "Oh crap!" He wrapped a fist in Greg's sleeve, his eyes darting around wildly. "We gotta go, now!"

"Hey!" Greg shouted, trying to shirk out of Sam's grasp as he regained his footing. "Get off of me!"

Sam ignored the protests and yanked the smaller man behind him, staring in the direction the ball had come from. There were a few cars and a large dumpster and a lot of shadow but no sign of a psychic kid trying to kill Greg with the power of their mind. "Come with me," he demanded, moving towards the Impala.

Another bowling ball tore towards them from a different direction, this one above ground and moving fast. It was heading for Greg's gut, just like his vision, but Sam yanked the man out of the trajectory just in time. He spun around and yelled into the dimming light. "Hey! Stop this! I know what you're doing! I know what you're able to do!" There was no answer. "Leave Greg out of this and let's just talk!"

Greg's voice was more angry than the scared it should have been. "What the fuck is going…?"

There was a sickening crunch and Sam spun around to be greeted by a spray of blood and brains. Greg slumped to the ground, his head reduced to half its size, and the offending bowling ball continued its trajectory, smashing into the passenger door of a nearby Honda Civic.

"Damnit!" Sam hissed, his eyes once again searching the surrounding shadows for the culprit. Maybe this situation was more like Andy's twin Ansem Weims, who could exert his psychic juju at a distance or over the phone. Or maybe Greg was the psychic kid after all. Maybe…

He saw something. A flash of yellow at the mouth of the alley. Someone had been watching.

"Hey!" he yelled, already moving in that direction. "Wait! Stop right there!"

He sprinted to the alley to see a girl wearing a yellow t-shirt disappear into a doorway at the far end. Within seconds he was inside a rundown apartment building, chasing the girl up the empty back stairwell. He finally caught her on the sixth floor landing and his fingers wrapped around her elbow, wrenching her to a sharp halt.

She struggled and kicked at him but he easily pinned her against the cement wall, insisting that he wasn't going to hurt her and that he just wanted to talk. A dirty sweatshirt from the floor shot up into the air and the sleeves wrapped themselves around his neck, tightening quickly. He let go of her with one hand and tugged it away from his windpipe, relieved when the old, rat-eaten material ripped in half in his hands and dropped harmlessly to the floor.

"Enough!" he snapped, glaring at the girl struggling in his grip. She was about his age, very sleight of frame, brown hair, mousy features and a huge purple bruise covering the right side of her face. It was the bruise that caused Sam's breath to hitch and his aggressive demeanor to falter. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated more softly.

He noticed the wrought iron railing behind him start to quiver and a he grimaced, wondering how strong her telekinetic powers were and what chance he stood if she mojo'd a balustrade loose. "I know about what you can do," he said quickly. "I know what you just did to Gary."

"Let me go," she begged, her expression full of fear.

"I just want to talk for now, okay?"

The railing stopped rattling. "What's your name?" he asked with a breath of relief.

"Chelsea."

He raised an eyebrow. Greg had mentioned that name. He put two and two together quickly. "Did Greg give you that bruise?"

She nodded.

He sighed, giving her a chastising look. "And you thought killing him was the solution?"

She bit her lip, staring at him in silence for a long moment before finally answering. "He never would have let me go," she said, her voice meek. "He said he'd kill me and… and he would have. He already found me twice and…"

Sam didn't need to hear any more. His grip on her wrists loosened and he took a step back, his forehead creased with concern at his current moral dilemma. He couldn't turn her in to the police but she _**had**_ just murdered someone. Greg may have been an abusive scumbag but he was human.

Chelsea stayed where she was, backed up against the wall, her eyes still wide with fear as she watched him. "Please don't hurt me," she whimpered.

He groaned, knowing already he was going to give her a pass on killing Greg. When had he sunk so far he was forgiving vigilante justice? "I'm not going to hurt you," he said again. "But your ability, the telekinetic thing, I really need to talk to you about it."

She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. I saw you. And Chelsea, you're not alone, okay? I have abilities too. Not the same as yours but I think they're related. There are other people like us."

She remained silent.

"Can we just go somewhere and talk?" he asked, pulling on his best 'puppy-eyes look' as Dean called it. "The police will be all over this place as soon as someone finds Greg's body, if they haven't already. We need to get you away from here."

She nodded slowly and followed obediently when Sam took her hand and led her down the stairs. The parking lot was now dark but still quiet, Greg's body lying undisturbed in a pool of his own blood and brain splatter. Sam ushered Chelsea swiftly into the Impala and drove away, looking for somewhere private where they could stop and talk, preferably somewhere with no loose projectiles.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

It was well after ten o'clock at night by the time Sam got back to the Good Grub Café in Burbank. He had talked to Chelsea for a long time, until he was convinced he had all the information she could give him about her powers and that she wouldn't be using them to kill anyone else. Like him, she was born in 1983 and her telekinetic powers had just developed recently, shortly after her twenty-second birthday. She had never dreamt of a man with yellow eyes and as far as she knew, both her parents were both alive and well somewhere in Ohio. She hadn't seen them since she had run away at sixteen, escaping from one abusive household only to find herself trapped in another one. She had seldom used her powers because Greg, her anger-prone boyfriend, had already made it clear he thought she was a freak and would have killed her for sure had he found out how right he was. It wasn't until after the last beating that she decided she needed to take matters into her own hands.

Sam had been preoccupied with the conversation and two hours had passed by the time he realized Dean hadn't called him yet. A spark of worry flickered within him when he dialed Dean's number and got no response, but he chalked it up to his brother using his charm to convince the blonde to stay off her bike by keeping her 'otherwise occupied'. Sam didn't understand the appeal his brother had to women beyond his good looks but he had to admit, it existed in spades. He dropped Chelsea off at her friend Donna's house and gave her his number, insisting she call if she needed anything or if something happened relating to her powers. Then he got back on the highway towards Burbank.

Several unanswered calls later, his worry had overcome his irritability. Sure, Dean could be an ass and would often drop off the grid for a few hours when in the company of a willing female, but he would still answer Sam's calls, especially when they were on a hunt. With Sam two hours away chasing a Yellow-Eyed demon related lead, there was just no way Dean wouldn't check in.

He pulled up sharply in front of the diner, which was open twenty-four hours, not sure if it was a good sign or bad that the red sport bike was still parked outside. He strode in and looked around to discover neither his brother nor the blonde girl from his vision were anywhere to be seen.

The plump waitress named Giselle, however, was still there. He made his way over to the counter where she was pouring a coffee and flashed her a smile.

"What can I get for you, sugar?" she droned, barely giving him a sideways glance.

"Uh, I'm looking for my friend," he lied. "Blonde girl, twenties. She was riding that red bike out front."

Giselle raised her head at that, her eyes studying him for a moment. "A friend of yours, you say?"

Sam nodded, encouraged. "Yeah. Have you seen her?"

She nodded. "I did. 'Bout four o'clock this afternoon. She left without paying."

Sam frowned. "She did?" That didn't sound good. "Can you tell me, was there a guy with her? Little older than me, short hair?"

"Good lookin' fella who walks like he's got a bowling ball between his legs?" Giselle chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes but nodded. "Yeah, that's him."

"Yep. He came in and made a bee-line to your friend soon as he set eyes on her. Didn't get the impression she was interested but guess I was wrong coz next thing I know, they're both gone. Didn't leave any money for their bills, either." She reached under the counter and pulled out a motorcycle helmet. "She left this just sitting on the seat."

_Okay, this really wasn't good._ Sam's worry spiked.

Giselle pushed the helmet over the counter towards him. "This won't do me no good," she said. "But I gotta cover any dine-and-dashes, so if you pay your friends' tabs, you can have it. They owed me nineteen forty-two."

Sam nodded and pulled out a twenty from his money clip.

"Plus tip."

He huffed and handed the scowling woman another five dollar bill. She pocketed it and gave him an insincere smile. "Now, you ordering anything, sugar, coz you hafta order to stick around."

He shook his head, looking around the quiet diner as he picked up the helmet. "Can I use your bathroom?" he asked absently, not waiting for a reply before he was marching towards the back of the diner and down the hallway marked 'washrooms'.

There was no sign of Dean in the men's washroom so he swallowed his pride and slipped into the women's also. Still finding nothing, he came back out into the hallway only to be greeted in the doorway by a burly woman with a disgusted expression on her face.

"Perv," the woman hissed as she passed, giving him a wide berth.

Sam might have been embarrassed had he not been so worried for his brother. The only other door in the hallway was a metal door with a bar handle that he guessed led outside at the side of the diner. He barged his way through it, finding himself squinting his eyes to see in the dim light of an alley.

Nothing. There was no sign of Dean. He dialed his brother's number again as he poked around, seeing nothing of interest except a rank-smelling dumpster. Then he heard it.

Deep Purple. _Oh shit_. He fell to his knees and searched frantically under the dumpster, reaching his hand beneath it to pull out the source of the music. Damnit. Dean's phone.

But no Dean.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:**__ Hi there! I'm back with a brand new story. A lot of set up in this chapter but hopefully you'll give it a shot. Reviews are always appreciated so let me know what you thought so far :-) _


	2. Secrets and Lies

_**A/N:**__ Found a screw-up I made that I got a kick out of. Halfway through the last chapter, Greg (the guy who got killed by the bowling ball) suddenly became Gary. Not sure how I didn't catch that! Lol. I've fixed it now._

_**Previously**__: Season 2, Sam has two visions in a row so the boys split up to try and save the victims from both. Sam drops Dean off at a diner to keep a girl from getting on her supernaturally-controlled bike and getting killed. He then goes to a bowling alley a couple of hours away and finds a telekinetic girl that he thinks is another of Yellow-Eyes's special kids. When he makes it back to the diner, Dean and the girl are gone._

**CHAPTER 2 – SECRETS AND LIES**

Sam stared down at the phone in his hand, his heart thumping so hard in his chest it hurt. The screen was open to the texting feature, a partial text to 'Sammy' that read "demo" staring back at him.

_**Demon**_. That had to be what Dean was trying to text him. Had demons attacked Dean? Was the blonde girl a demon? She had been in one of Sam's visions so she no doubt had something to do with demons and Yellow Eyes and his unknown plans for Sam and the others like him. When they had found the psychic kid Max, he had almost shot Dean. Andy's brother Ansem Weims had almost forced Dean to swallow a bullet from his own rifle. Gordon Walker had beaten and taken Dean in an effort to get to his little brother. Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second. He was the one Yellow-Eyes had 'chosen', so why did Dean always end up getting the shit end of the stick?

He couldn't lose Dean. He just couldn't. Sam had been the one who insisted they get to the bottom of this special children thing and now Dean was in trouble because Sam had refused to run. Dean had practically begged him to but, as usual, Sam had insisted on doing things his way, on throwing caution to the wind and going at this thing full on, on following up on both visions. If trying to save some stranger on a bike got Dean killed...

He shuddered and reined in his runaway thoughts. No, Dean would be fine. Sam just had to follow the clues and find him. They'd been in worse situations before. He gave the alley one last look over but found nothing. What other leads did he have?

The bike. The blonde's motorcycle was still parked out front. He made his way back through the diner and out the front door to the bike, lifting the seat compartment to find the registration. Finding it, he grabbed his laptop from the Impala and went back inside to use the diner's wi-fi and look the name up. It took him less than an hour to get her whole story.

Jenna Marie Harrison. Born December 12th, 1983 in Sacramento, California. Parents both doctors, both deceased. Older brother, also deceased. No criminal record. In fact, no records of any sort that he could find. No credit cards. No history at any power company, cable company, or phone company, at least not in California. All she had was a driver's licence, on which her current address was listed near San Diego. Some follow-up cyber-sleuthing uncovered that the address was actually an empty lot owned by a developer that hadn't done any developing since the economy tanked. Sam decided this girl was looking all kinds of shady.

Of course that shouldn't have come as a complete surprise. There had to be a reason one of the Yellow-Eyed demon's special kids, or something supernatural anyway, had tried to kill her. So did _**she**_ do something to Dean? Or was it whoever had intended to steer her and her bike into oncoming traffic? Was she in on it? Had they hurt Dean? Taken him? What would they want with him?

The place was quiet so only a few patrons had come and gone during the entire time Sam had been at his booth and he paid them little heed. Giselle the waitress had insisted he order something to stay and he was on his third cup of green tea when a woman strode in. Sam kept digging for more information on Jenna Harrison but his hunter's instincts tingled when he caught the woman talking to Giselle at the counter and the waitress pointed over at him. The woman's head twisted around and her hard gaze met his for a fraction of a second before she returned her attention to Giselle. Sam spent the next minute studying the pair at the counter nervously before the woman suddenly straightened up and marched over to his booth, sliding into the bench across from him without waiting for an invitation.

"How do you know Jenna?" she demanded, not bothering with an introduction.

"Who are you?" he countered smoothly.

"The waitress says you came in here asking about Jenna." She leaned forward with her elbows on the table. She was older than him by a few years, probably in her late twenties or very early thirties, with dark hair and a no-nonsense attitude. "So how do you know her?"

"Uh, I don't actually," he answered carefully. "I was looking for my brother."

"Why'd you ask for Jen?"

"I saw her bike was still outside. I didn't know her name but I thought the waitress would be more likely to remember her."

"Did you find your brother?"

Sam shook his head. "No, not yet. Look, who are you?"

"Was your brother the guy sitting with Jen before she disappeared?"

"Are you a cop?"

She scoffed. "Do I look like a cop to you?"

"That's not exactly a 'no'."

"No," she said more definitively, giving him another hard stare. "What's your name?"

"Sam Winchester." The thought struck him that he probably should have lied about his name but he was out of leads and this woman was the only connection he had with the mysterious blonde. "What's yours?"

"Quinn."

"Just Quinn?"

"Just Quinn. So what was your brother doing here and why was he sitting with Jen?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "And how did you _**know**_ he was sitting with her?"

Sam's brain scrambled to come up with a plausible reply that would put her at ease enough to end her accusatory questions and allow him to get some answers of his own. "I had some errands to run so I dropped Dean off here and she was just arriving at the same time," he explained. "Dean's... well, Dean's a bit of a flirt and Jenna's pretty. When I came back to pick him up and I saw her motorcycle was still here, I made an assumption."

She looked thoughtful, as if considering the validity of his response. Sam took advantage of the pause in her rapid-fire questions to get in some of his own. "Jenna a friend of yours?"

"Family."

Sam's digging on Jenna Harrison hadn't uncovered any surviving family. "I take it you haven't heard from her since this afternoon?" he pressed.

She shook her head. "This isn't like her. You haven't heard from your brother either?"

"No. Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward on her elbows again. "Your brother better not have done anything to hurt..."

"Hey!" Sam cut her off defensively. "Dean wouldn't have hurt her. More the opposite. Whoever took them was probably after _**your**_ friend."

"What makes you think someone took them?" she demanded, pouncing instantly on Sam's slip-up.

"Because Dean would have found a way to call me by now if he was able," Sam answered truthfully. "He had no car and her ride's still here so they didn't leave on their own."

They talked for a few more minutes, both asking questions and both being transparently evasive in their replies. Apparently Jenna was a 'model citizen' with 'no enemies whatsoever'. _Yeah right._ Sam got no more useful information out of Quinn and finally decided she was a dead end. They exchanged numbers and she left at the same time he did, exiting the diner just a few steps ahead of the tall hunter.

He stopped outside in the parking lot to take one last look around, contemplating where to go next and not sure if he wanted to leave the last place his brother had been seen. He glanced down at his watch to do the mental math. Eight hours - Dean had been missing almost eight hours. Eight hours and the damn trail was cold.

He glanced up to see Quinn had stopped short a few steps ahead of him and was staring across the street. He followed her gaze and his heart jumped at what he saw. A bank with an automated teller on the front of the building - an ATM machine whose video camera pointed right into the alley down the side of the diner. How the hell had he missed that? Judging by Quinn's reaction, she had seen the same thing. A passing thought of working together occurred to Sam but he changed his mind quickly, Dean's voice ringing in his head not to be so naive and trusting.

He had to get his hands on that camera's video footage. "So, uh, call me if you find anything," he said quickly, hustling over to the Impala and getting in. He was on the phone spouting a fake police badge number before he even made it out onto the street.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Half an hour later Sam was banging on the front door of the bank branch manager's residence, dragging him out of bed under the guise of aiding 'Agent Perry' in a confidential investigation. He escorted him to his workplace so he could show Sam the footage from the ATM overhead camera. After complaining nonstop for ten minutes that the FBI should have used the proper channels and just gone through the bank's security company, the older man finally found the password and logged into the archived footage from earlier that afternoon.

Sam watched the grainy video with bated breath, knowing this could be his last chance at finding Dean. He had called Bobby and Ellen and they had both said they were on it but truthfully, they had no leads to go on.

The video didn't give him much. A white van had backed into the narrow alley about fifteen minutes before Sam had dropped Dean off. It stayed where it was for twenty minutes or so before two people jumped into the front seats and it took off at a high speed. The back doors opened sideways so from the camera's vantage point, nothing going on behind the van could be seen and the video was so grainy Sam couldn't make out the front licence plate. He ordered the bank manager to put it on a flash drive for him, claiming he would get the bureau's IT department to enhance it, and let the man go home. He watched the manager's Prius drive away and sank into the driver's seat of the Impala with a frustrated sigh, pulling out his phone.

He was only three digits into his call when the car's back door behind him opened. He barely had time to lift his head when a cold, round object was pressing into the back of his neck.

"Don't fucking move!" a woman's voice hissed as someone climbed into the back seat. "Hands on the steering wheel!"

Sam knew right away it was Quinn and cursed himself for being distracted enough to allow her to get the drop on him. She closed the Impala's back door as he slowly placed his hands at the ten and two positions on the wheel. "Who are you?" he ventured, hoping the fact that she was using a gun at least meant she wasn't a demon.

"You don't get to ask the questions!" she snapped angrily, fisting the fingers of her free hand into his hair and yanking his head back against the headrest, pressing the gun harder into his neck.

"Okay, okay," he appeased, hating that she had him in a helpless position.

"Sam Winchester," she spoke into his ear, her voice dripping with disdain. "I looked you up."

_Oh crap._

"And your brother, Dean."

_Double crap._

"You forgot to mention he liked to tie-up women and torture and beat them to death. That he's a sick, twisted, perverted fuck with a rap sheet a mile long."

"No, no," Sam defended quickly. "That wasn't him. You've got bad information."

"I got it straight from the St. Louis PD! Seems he managed to fake his demise on that one only to reappear in Baltimore just in time for another couple of murders. Made quite the bloody mess." The cold steel of the weapon in Sam's neck combined with the lack of fear in her voice was making Sam more than nervous. This wasn't just some angry civilian – Quinn knew what she was doing. She never loosened her grip in his hair. "What did he do with Jen?" she demanded.

"Nothing, I swear," he repeated. "Dean didn't hurt her."

"She'd better be alright or I swear to God..."

"Listen!" Sam cut off her threat. "Back in St. Louis, that wasn't him, I promise. The real guy who hurt those women is dead."

"Tell me something," she continued, ignoring him, "Are you in it with him or just helping cover his tracks? Huh?"

"I swear, Dean's innocent and he didn't hurt your friend. Look, you have to believe me," he said, trying to stay calm, his hands still on the steering wheel. "What happened in St. Louis is hard to explain. I mean, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," she hissed. "You'd be surprised what I believe."

Sam swallowed, knowing no sane explanation of the events with the shapeshifter in St. Louis and the murders in Baltimore was possible. He was out of options. "You ever hear the old Indian legends about skinwalkers?" he ventured.

There was a pause before she answered. "Skinwalkers turn into animals."

Okay, that hadn't been the answer he'd been expecting but it was encouraging. "No, no you're right but there's this other thing that can take on human form..."

"You're talking about a shapeshifter?"

Sam felt her grip in his hair loosen ever so slightly.

"Yes," he said quickly. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. That's what hurt those women in St. Louis, not Dean." Only one type of person knew what a shapeshifter was. "Are you a hunter?" he blurted.

There was a long pause. "Yeah," she said finally. "You?"

"Yeah."

Another long pause, during which Sam waited patiently for her to release him. When she didn't, he figured maybe she needed a nudge. "Uh, do you mind letting go of my hair?" he asked politely, trying to hide his impatience.

Her hand withdrew but the barrel of the gun was still pressed into his neck. He could tell by the lilt in her voice there was a smirk on her face. "Not into the hair-pulling, huh?" she quipped.

Before he could come up with a response, a flask was held out over the seat. "Drink that," she ordered.

He took it slowly, keeping his hands up where she could see them. "Holy water?"

"Yup."

He unscrewed the top and swallowed a good size mouthful before finally turning to face her as he handed the flask back. "I'm not a demon," he said dryly. "You mind lowering the Glock?"

She did so slowly, still giving him a wary look.

"Your turn," he said, nodding his head towards the flask.

Her eyes narrowed but she took a noisy slurp of the cool liquid before tucking the flask back into her jacket. "Why didn't you just say you were a hunter?" she bitched.

"Not usually the line I open with," Sam huffed indignantly. "Besides, you didn't exactly ask."

"Whatever. Listen, since we've established we're all hunters, I need to know what your brother was really doing with Jenna at the diner."

Sam studied her for a minute. He wouldn't classify her tone as friendly, but the hostile attitude had been dialed back. "I'll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know."

"Fine. Spill."

He explained that he and Dean had reason to believe Jenna could be in trouble so he had dropped Dean off to watch out for her while he took care of some other urgent business. In response to the expected question '_What made you think she was in trouble?_', he gave her a partial lie, describing the vision but saying it had been relayed to them from a psychic that helped them out from time to time. His description of the head-on collision caused her face to pale noticeably, even only with the pale light of the nearby streetlamp, and Sam decided she was genuinely worried for the missing girl.

Sam made a vague reference to the vision's connection to the Yellow-Eyed demon but much to his disappointment, Quinn claimed she had never heard of a demon with yellow eyes.

Quinn had a lot less information to share. She used to hunt with Jenna's older brother before he died, when she had been tasked with looking out for the girl who now had no blood family left. It became clear to Sam that Quinn looked upon the younger girl as a little sister and that she took her role as protector very seriously because she had found the Good Grub Cafe by means of a GPS tracker she had installed in the bike. Jenna had been visiting an old friend of the family in Sacramento and was supposed to meet Quinn in San Diego over four hours ago. She insisted Jenna was just an ordinary girl and didn't have any involvement with demons.

"So she's not..." Sam wasn't sure how to broach the subject without giving his own secret away. "She's not different in any way is she? Like maybe prone to... psychic abilities or something?"

"No," Quinn replied without delay. "Why would you ask that?"

Sam shrugged. "Just wondering why the psychic saw her in his vision." He sighed in disappointment. Not only was this Jenna Harrison not one of the psychic kids but it seemed Quinn wasn't able to offer up any more leads.

"I got the footage from the bank's camera from the security company," she informed him. "It's grainy as shit though. There was a van but I couldn't make out the licence plate."

Sam held up the flash drive the bank manager had given him. "Yeah, me too," he admitted with a chuckle. "But I have a guy in Nebraska. He works out of the back of a bar but he's pretty much a genius when it comes to computers. I'll send it to him and see what he can do with it."

"Okay, do it now," she said, sitting back in the rear seat.

He arched an eyebrow at her bossy tone but pulled his duffel up from the floor and reached for the door handle. "Okay, but I need the diner's Wi-Fi to email the file," he announced, stepping out of the Impala.

Quinn got out also and walked with him across the street into the diner, taking two steps for every one of his long strides. They slid into the same booth Sam had used earlier and Quinn flagged a tired-looking Giselle over to order a couple of coffees.

"Uh, make mine a green tea," Sam interjected absently as he booted up his laptop. "No sugar." He glanced up at the sound of Quinn's snort and caught the very Dean-like look of distaste on her face. He chose to ignore it.

He forwarded the file to Ash and called him up to explain what he needed. Ash took a quick look at the file while he had Sam on the line and said he might need until morning.

"What?! Ash, Dean may not have until morning!"

"_Sorry, dude; that video's some low quality shit. Dr. Bad Ass is good but he's not God."_

He pleaded with Ash to work as fast as he could and hung up, frowning as he tried to decide what to do next. "It could take 'til morning," he explained to Quinn.

She looked decidedly displeased with the news. "What are we supposed to do in the meantime?" she demanded hotly.

Figuring her harsh tone was aimed more at the situation than at him, Sam just pursed his lips and sat back in the booth. He knew exactly how she felt. Frustrated, worried, and helpless. "Diner's open all night," he said with a despondent shrug.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean felt a flicker of guilt as he entered the diner, cursing himself momentarily for letting Little Dean do the thinking and allowing Sam to take the wifebeater gig, the vision Dean had figured was the more dangerous of the two. The notion passed quickly though as he watched the blonde slide into a booth by the window and a wide grin spread over his face. Oh yeah, he was definitely better suited to this one; Sam could barely order coffee from a pretty girl, never mind stall one indefinitely without spooking her.

He strode over to her booth without pause, stopping at the edge of the table and flashing his best smile when she looked up. "Hi there. Mind if I join you?"

"Uh, yeah, actually," she declined, giving him the courtesy of looking apologetic. "I'm tired and not really up for company."

Dean's smile just widened and he slid into the bench seat across from her. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said with a wink. "I won't keep you up."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Uhhh, I meant it," she stammered. "I don't want company."

"Aw, come on, don't be like that." Dean tried to dial up the charm. "I'm great company. I chew with my mouth closed and everything."

The '_leave me alone_' expression on her face never wavered.

Dean kept trying. "This place is busy." He made a show of looking around at the over half-empty diner. "I could be waiting an hour for a free table." The cocky grin returned. "Besides, I'm a firm believer that pretty girls should never have to dine alone."

She rolled her eyes. "Listen, buddy, it's not that I'm not flattered. I mean you're a good looking guy and all, but I've been driving for six hours in the fetal position and I've still got two hours to go. I really just want to sit here, have a bite to eat, and relax in peace, okay?"

There was a beat of silence before Dean settled back into the booth with a triumphant smile. He managed to refrain from his natural instinct to offer his services working out her kinks. "So you think I'm good looking?"

She snorted but he finally got a smile out of her. "Is that the only part you heard out of everything I just said?"

Dean shrugged one shoulder, encouraged. "Selective hearing comes in handy," he chuckled. "Look, I promise I won't bother you. I just don't like eating alone." He spied the waitress heading towards their table. "I'm buying," he added in an effort to sweeten the deal.

The blonde groaned and took a deep breath. Dean got the feeling she was about to state her case for solitude again so he cut her off before she could speak. "Okay, I'll make you a deal. If I guess what you were going to order, you let me pay and you eat with me."

She pursed her lips, looking mildly amused. "And if you guess wrong?"

"Then you buy and I'll have to eat all by my lonesome."

She laughed. "Is this a hustle for a free lunch? You work this ruse all the time? Get the girls to buy you lunch just to get rid of you?"

The waitress reached the table and pulled out her notepad, looking back and forth between the two. "What'll it be?"

"I don't plan on losing, sweetheart," Dean smirked. "Your wallet's safe. But you gotta be honest. If I guess right, I win." He turned to the waitress, a heavyset, older woman. "I'll have a bacon double cheeseburger and fries and a coke and my friend here will have a slice of pecan pie with ice cream."

He was staring at the blonde as he ordered and chuckled when her eyes widened in disbelief when he nailed her order to a tee. _Finally, a perk to Sam's weirdo visions_.

The waitress, Giselle by her nametag, frowned at the girl. "That's it, honey? It's suppertime. We got a special – hot hamburger with fried onions only $5.99."

The blonde still looked a little stunned. "Uh, no," she shook her head politely. "That's alright, thanks. I just want the pecan pie."

"With ice cream," Dean added smugly.

Giselle grunted but walked away without another word.

"So, how'd I do?" Dean gloated.

She smiled through her feigned pout. "Fine, you can stay." She moved to slide out of her side of the booth.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Dean startled, his smug expression dissolving quickly. "The deal was you eat with me."

"Relax. Lemme guess, girls ditch you before dessert all the time, huh?" she teased. "Don't worry, I'm just going to the washroom to freshen up," she assured him, tapping her helmet to demonstrate she was leaving it on the seat. "It's been a long drive."

"So do you have a name?" he asked. "Or do I just keep calling you hot biker chick?"

She straightened up and extended a hand towards him with another roll of the eyes. "I'm Jenna."

"Dean," the hunter replied, shaking her hand and watching her as she turned and walked through the diner towards the washrooms. He took the opportunity of her absence to survey the place, look for anyone paying particular attention to Jenna or looking suspicious. He could stall her and keep her off her bike for a little while, an hour or two, but considering how hard he had to work just to buy her lunch, he wasn't liking his chances of sweet-talking her to a nearby motel, which would have been, of course, his preferred method of keeping her safe. Telling her some supernatural psycho was planning on mind-controlling her motorcycle and splatting her across some truck's radiator like a bug on the highway came in a distant second.

Nobody in the diner tingled his hunter spidey-sense. They were all families or bored-looking blue-collar workers. He drummed his fingers on the table waiting for Jenna to come back, getting more and more impatient as time passed. When she had been gone more than ten minutes, his impatience turned to worry. He slid out of the booth and headed to the hallway that led to the washrooms.

He waited outside the door of the women's until a lady with a small child came out. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said politely. "Is there anyone still in there? I'm looking for my sister."

The lady shook her head. "Nope, sorry, it was empty," she said and walked past him.

"Crap," Dean mumbled, thinking that Jenna, if that was even her real name, must have given him the slip. Maybe he wasn't as smooth and charming as he thought he was. He barged into the women's washroom, double-checking each stall and finding nothing. "Damnit!" he cursed. He dashed back into the restaurant but didn't see any sign of the missing blonde girl. Looking back down the hallway, he spotted the door to the outside and decided she must have taken off out that way.

He barged through the metal door and was greeted by a fist in the face. A hand wrapped in his shirt and yanked him forward before he could hit the floor, however, and the door slammed shut behind him, effectively cutting off his escape route as well as any potential witnesses. He shook his head clear from the stun of the hit to see five men standing in an alley around him, a white van with its back doors open parked between them and the street. One of them had a struggling Jenna's arms pinned behind her and a hand clamped over her mouth.

_Oh crap. _

As if that wasn't bad enough, the man who had hit him took a step back and blinked. His eyes were black. Full-on, creepy, solid, freaky-ass demon black.

_Double crap._

Why the hell hadn't Sam seen this part in his vision? He raised one hand in the air in a gesture of peace while the other slid into his jacket pocket to thumb a warning text to his brother. "Lemme guess, Food Inspection Agency?" he stalled.

As usual, his smart mouth made things worse. The man that had pulled him outside punched him in the gut and swiped the .45 out of the back of his pants. A second man hit him in the face again, sending him reeling backwards into the hard metal door. The force of the swing ripped his hand out of his pocket and he heard his phone skidding across the ground. He heard a woman's muffled scream from the direction of the van but couldn't see past the man leering over him as he slumped to the ground at the base of the door.

"You're coming with us, Winchester," was the last thing he heard before another fist landed in his face and the back of his head slammed into the door, turning his world black.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:**__ Hi! Hope everyone loved last night's episode as much as I did :-) I won't say much to avoid spoilers buy yay! Mushy bromance moment! Sorry for the delay in posting this but I just discovered Sons of Anarchy and it has me by the throat and is seriously cutting into my fanfic time, lol. Hope you enjoyed this chapter – a reminder that I will be keeping this story entirely in Sam and Dean's POV. Reviews are always appreciated!_


	3. Wife Swap

_**Previously**__: Dean flirts with the blonde to keep her from getting on her bike but is jumped in the alley by a bunch of demons. Sam comes back to the diner to find Dean gone. He runs into a woman named Quinn who is looking for the blonde, Jenna, and after threatening him with a gun, he discovers she's a hunter also. He sends some security camera footage to Ash to see if he can get a licence plate from the van they suspect Dean and Jenna were taken away in and the two wait in the diner together to hear back from him. _

**CHAPTER 3****– WIFE SWAP**

Sam spent the next three hours on his laptop, researching the area and looking for any other signs of demon activity. When he found nothing, he expanded his search to Nevada, Arizona, and Oregon, even northern Mexico. Still nothing. No livestock deaths, no freak weather incidents such as electrical storms and temperature fluctuations, no reports of sulfur being found at any crime scenes.

Quinn sat in the booth across from him, her own laptop out on the table but she had given up her pounding of the keys an hour ago, slamming it shut with a frustrated huff. She had pressured Sam to give up the name of the psychic who had seen Jenna in a vision, forcing Sam to lie further. He told her the psychic was a recluse who didn't want his name repeated and insisted that the guy would definitely call Sam if he had any more visions. So for the next hour she sat drumming her fingers on the tabletop and shifting restlessly in her seat. Sam peered over at her a few times as he worked, trying to hide his smile behind his laptop screen. It reminded him of countless times he had been waiting for a lead to break with Dean. His brother wasn't known for his patience either.

She finally let out a deep exhale and rested her temple against the window pane. Sam closed his laptop and leaned back in his seat. "You look tired," he said honestly.

For once she didn't get defensive. "I just got back from a hunt," she admitted. "Haven't slept in a couple of days."

"Go crash," he offered. "There has to be a motel somewhere around here. I'll call you when Ash gets back to me."

"I'm not going anywhere until I find Jen," she said wearily. "Right now, you're my best lead."

Sam nodded in understanding. She closed her eyes and they sat in silence for a few minutes before she opened them back up and looked over at him.

"Hey, Winchester?"

"Yeah?"

"Your brother... he a good hunter?"

Sam nodded. "The best," he answered truthfully. "Best I know. Best I've ever known, actually."

"Good." She was silent for another minute, her head still leaning against the diner window and her expression worried. "Coz Jenna, she's not a hunter. Not a real one. I mean, she hunts but I stick her to research and legwork. I make sure I do all the heavy lifting."

"Dean'll watch out for her," Sam assured her, worry knotting his own stomach at the truth in his own words and what that could mean for his brother. "He'll do whatever he can to keep an innocent safe."

She didn't seem all that comforted by his last words and Sam wondered again if there was more she wasn't telling him. She did, however, close her eyes again and within ten minutes, her breathing evened out the slow, deep breaths of sleep.

She looked younger with her face relaxed, the lines of worry and anger gone for the first time since he had met her. She had long, straight brown hair and her angular, well-defined cheekbones hinted at an Indian heritage. She was definitely attractive. Not sweet, girl-next-door, Jessica kind of beautiful, more Kate-Beckinsdale-in-Underworld kind of hot - only without the leather.

He watched her for a minute, trying to curb the impulse to pick her pockets for some real ID. She had his whole history but all he had of her was a name, and he wasn't even sure if it was a first name or a last. He didn't like being at a disadvantage. Dean was always accusing him of being too trusting – too quick to give people the benefit of the doubt. Well, this time Sam was playing his hand close to his chest. After the incident with Gordon Walker, he realized Dean had good reason to worry about the players on both sides of this fight coming after him. He and Dean were on their own.

He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her, forwarding it to Ash with a text saying he would call him about it later. After finishing his current cup of green tea, he headed to the washroom to make room for the switch to coffee, sliding out of the booth without disturbing Quinn. He needed to caffeinate. It was almost four o'clock in the morning but he couldn't even think of sleeping. Not with Dean missing.

When he came back out into the hallway, the waiter that had relieved Giselle an hour or so ago was there, frowning at him. "This isn't Starbucks," the old man said testily, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of a still-sleeping Quinn. "Or a motel. You have to eat to keep a seat."

The hunter groaned inwardly but gave the guy a polite smile. "Yeah, okay man," he conceded. "I'll order some food."

The waiter nodded but stayed where he was, his brow knitting in an expression of curiosity as he looked past the tall hunter towards the outside door. "That your jacket?"

"Huh?" Sam spun around to follow the man's gaze. There on the floor near the back of the hallway was a brown leather jacket. "What the..." Sam was stooping down to pick it up within two heartbeats, knowing before he got to it that it was Dean's - the one their father had given him and that he would _**never**_ ditch willingly despite his waning adulation of John Winchester.

He snatched it and stood up, spinning back towards the waiter as a dozen alarm bells went off inside his head. "This wasn't here befo..." was all he got out before the waiter's eyes flitted black. "Demon!" Sam hissed, realizing his flask of holy water was still in his jacket pocket, lying fifty feet away on the bench seat in the restaurant.

He heard the door behind him opening but before he could even turn around, strong arms grabbed him and started hauling him backwards. He started struggling immediately, kicking and punching at whoever had a grip on him. He knew if they got him out into that alley, he was finished. He managed to land a sneaker in the black-eyed waiter's gut and break one arm free, swinging it wildly behind him.

He loosened the unseen attacker's grip enough that his other hand managed to slip into his jeans pocket to grab his rosary. With recent demon-related events, Sam had memorized more than one exorcism and had been nagging a Latin-challenged Dean to do the same. He twisted around and slammed it against the forehead of the man who had been manhandling him out the door, chanting one of the exorcisms as fast as he could.

The man started screaming and Sam could smell the burning of his flesh under the cross but another appeared right behind him. Between the waiter and these two, and probably more outside, Sam knew he was flanked, outnumbered and basically screwed.

There was a scream from behind him and he turned his head, the steady stream of Latin words still spilling from his mouth. He was greeted with the sight of Quinn latched onto the old waiter's back, dumping the contents of her flask on his head. The demon in his grip finally tipped its head back and a jet of black smoke gushed from his mouth, dissipating into the floor.

"Winchester!"

He shot a sideways glance at Quinn's shout to see a flask flying towards him. He snatched it out of the air with one hand, ducking just in time to avoid the punch from the second demon who had just come in from outside. Sam danced backwards as he unscrewed the top of the flask and splashed the demon in the face. Quinn had a rosary wrapped around the waiter's neck but the demon was clawing at her and slamming her back into the wall in an effort to get her off him.

He heard a commotion behind him, confirming his suspicion that there were more demons outside. He kicked the door shut with a bang and splashed more water on the demon that had taken a swing at him. He dropped all his weight down onto a knee in the demon's chest, trying to hold him still as he poured the rest of the holy water on his face. Sam didn't need to recite another exorcism because Quinn, although she'd been thrown and was now on the floor taking hits from the waiter, was just gasping out the last few words of hers, within earshot of the one he had pinned.

Both demons were suddenly spewing black smoke and their stolen meatsuits sagged lifelessly to the floor. Breathing heavily, Sam straightened up and reached a hand out to help Quinn up off the floor. Her jacket was open and her t-shirt had ridden up in the tussle, giving Sam a glimpse of a tattoo peering out the top of her low-cut jeans. A white star with black and gold trim. He knew that insignia.

She winced as he pulled her to her feet. "You okay?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she replied with a nod, one hand pressed to her ribcage. Her head swiveled to survey the two demons Sam had taken out before her gaze fixed back on him. "Nice job, Winchester," she flashed him a smile.

"You too," he acknowledged, pointing to the dead waiter.

"Hooyah," she said with a roll of her eyes. She winced again as she took a step past him and towards the door. "Come on, kid. We'd better get outta here before those ones think to go round front."

He frowned at her calling him 'kid' but the angry pounding that was rattling the door behind them spurred him into motion. They dashed into the empty diner and Sam shoved both laptops into his duffel as he grabbed his jacket off his seat, Dean's leather still held tight in one hand. Quinn snatched two salt shakers and smashed the heads off on the edge of a nearby table before shouldering her backpack and heading for the door just two steps behind Sam.

They were just ten steps into the parking lot when three men rounded the corner from the alley.

"There he is!" one of them shouted.

"Oh crap," Sam hissed, turning to Quinn. "Which car's yours?" There were only two cars plus Jenna's bike in the parking lot. The Impala was parked in front of the bank across the wide street and Sam didn't like their chances of making it all the way over there.

But Quinn was already tugging at his arm. "Neither. I'm down the street; yours is closer."

They started running, the three demons not far behind. Sam hoped like Hell none of them were powerful enough to do what Yellow-Eyes had done when he was possessing John Winchester, press the brothers up against the wall with the power of his mind. If any of them had that kind of juice, he and Quinn were screwed.

The two hunters darted in front of a passing van, earning a loud honk from the driver and a squeal of brakes being locked up. The van's presence stalled their pursuers long enough for the pair to reach the Impala and Sam yanked the driver's door open as Quinn skidded over the hood to get to the other side. He was folding his tall form into the seat when the first demon reached him, wrapping a fist in his flannel shirt and trying to pull him back out of the car.

Sam struggled and punched wildly to break loose from the demon's grip, at least free enough to get the key in the ignition. He heard Quinn getting in the passenger side behind him then suddenly she was leaning up next to him, in between him and the wheel, tossing salt from the shakers she had stolen at the demon at his door.

The second demon appeared right behind the first brandishing a pistol. He raised it towards Sam but hesitated at a shout from the third demon. "Boss wants him alive!" the one in behind snapped.

The demon snarled and Sam was relieved to see the gun swing away from his face... at least until he realized it was aimed at Quinn instead. He leaned forward instinctively to shield her, jamming the key in the ignition at the same time. One last frantic kick pushed the closest demon back into the one with the gun and Sam slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. The Impala surged forward and for a moment, Sam thought they were home free but his door was still open and the closest demon was still hanging on.

Sam elbowed him a couple of times as they pulled out into the street but the demon was strong and persistent. Next thing he knew, Quinn's arm was in front of him, firing her Glock directly into the face of their clingy attacker. The demon dropped off onto the pavement and Sam kept going, leaning out to pull his door shut as they sped away.

"I'm sure that hurts like Hell but it won't kill it," Quinn said, sounding decidedly disappointed as she sat up on her knees to look out the back window. "There's a white van in the alley," she added with a frown. "Couldn't make out the fucking licence plate."

"Same demons that took Dean," Sam scowled, hating that they were being forced to run from the only thing that might be able to give them answers.

They sped along in silence for a moment, Quinn keeping her eyes glued out the back window. She finally turned around and slumped into the Impala's leather seat with a loud sigh. "I think we're clear. I`m pretty sure that whole kerfuffle was just out of range of the bank's security camera and I don't think anyone saw us besides the van full of demons, so cops shouldn't be a problem."

"Giselle," Sam pointed out, referring to the waitress who had served them for the first couple of hours in the diner.

"Did she get your name or see your car?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. I think we're safe on that count too. Still, four dead bodies..."

Quinn groaned. "Yeah, we'd better lay low for a while, watch our sixes." Her face pulled into a frown. "Since when do demons carry guns?"

"I don't know," Sam answered truthfully. "Most of my demon experience is all pretty recent."

"Yeah, they seem to be coming out of the woodwork the past couple of years."

He frowned, growing angrier now that the adrenaline rush was subsiding. "Why the hell are they after us?"

She looked over at him with an arched eyebrow. "_**Us**_?" she questioned. "They didn't give a shit about me. I was just in their way. You heard them. They wanted _**you**_ and they wanted you alive."

Sam shot a wary glance sideways, realizing she was right. "Why?" he found himself asking her again.

"I don't know, but you know what I think?" Her tone was almost accusing now. "I think this may not have been about Jenna. I think these demons were more likely after you and your brother. Jenna could have just been collateral damage." She pointed out the window. "Turn right here. There's a quiet motel along here with a sheltered parking lot. We'll get a room and you can spill everything you're not telling me from behind the safety of a salted door."

Sam pulled a bitchface but obeyed and turned the car into the requested street.

"You haven't exactly been generous with the personal information either," he pointed out. "I don't even know your full name and you forgot to mention you're US Army." She gave him a surprised look and he smiled smugly at catching her off guard. "Tattoo on your hip," he acknowledged, thinking enlistment records would make it a lot easier for Ash to dig up some background on her.

"Huh. You're observant, Winchester," she said, directing him to take another right turn. "And that was another life. I'm _**ex**_-Army now."

"Howcome?"

"Long story and completely irrelevant. Why are these demons after you?"

"I don't know." He could feel her studying him and he looked sideways. "Honestly," he added, holding her gaze as he said it. "I really don't know."

"Have they come after you before?"

Sam pursed his lips and paused before answering. "Not like this. Not directly."

"Care to be more specific?"

He swallowed. "A demon killed my girlfriend just over a year ago."

Quinn's face never flinched but the observant hunter noticed her fist clench at the revelation. Sam waited for the expected condolences on his loss but she never said a word, instead simply staring forward for a long minute before pointing up ahead. "Turn left here."

He turned the car as directed again but spared an annoyed glance at his passenger. "Anyone ever tell you you're bossy?"

"So I've been told," she chuckled.

They found the motel and Quinn went into the office to check-in. Sam was thankful for a brief moment alone. He wasn't used to working with anyone but Dean. As aggravating as his brother could be, he missed him. Dean would know what to do right now.

Sam leaned back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes, his face scrunched up with worry and fear.

Quinn was right. The demons were after _**him**_. A week ago, Ava Wilson had disappeared at the hands of demons leaving her husband rotting in a bath of his own blood. Collateral damage. What if Dean... Damnit, this was all Sam's fault. If anything happened to Dean, it would be because of him.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**Eight hours earlier...**_

The first thing Dean became aware of was his discomfort. His hands were bound behind his back and he was lying on a cold, hard floor that was vibrating. _Magic fingers?_ Oh, no, crap - the van. He was in the back of the van. His head was pounding in his skull and with his face on the metal floor, all he could see was a pair of sneakers.

He shifted his weight, grunting as a stab of pain shot through the stiff, cramped shoulder underneath him. Rolling sideways, he looked up to two men flanking the blonde – _shit, what was her name again? Jamie? Jennie? Jenna, that was it, Jenna _– all three sitting on the van's sidebench.

His eyes locked with Jenna's and she started to drop forward towards him but one of the men threw an arm in front of her to keep her in place. The other man moved forward and planted a kick in Dean's gut, his eyes flashing black as he grinned and sat back down.

"Don't!" he heard Jenna cry. "Leave him alone!"

"Shut up," the first one snapped.

"Motherfff..." Dean gasped, trying to regain his breath. He pressed his back against the far wall of the van and rolled himself into a sitting position across from the three on the bench. "What is this?" he snarled. "You're demons, right? What do you want with us? Where are you taking us?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Winchester," Demon-on-the-left snarled.

"Still waiting on an answer here."

Demon-on-the-right chuckled. "You'll find out soon enough."

"What's that mean?"

"Where's your brother?" the first demon fired back. "We were expecting two of you."

Dean's heart lurched in sudden fear for Sam but he put his game face on. "Well, lucky you - you got me."

Lefty gave Righty a nervous glance. "Boss said to bring both," he growled to his accomplice, shaking his head.

"It'll be fine," Righty scoffed. "We got one of 'em and the girl. That ought to keep his limey ass happy."

Jenna spoke up. "What does your boss want with us?" she asked cautiously.

Lefty glared at her, his eyes flitting black again. "Like you don't know already, sweetcheeks."

Dean watched her jaw stiffen and a hard swallow make its way down her throat. He shifted, trying to get more comfortable as he worked the knots on his wrist behind him all the while wondering what Jenna was hiding.

The van fell silent, black-eyed glares from the demons dissuading Dean from opening his mouth and earning himself another kick in the gut, or worse. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out cold but he was only awake thirty or so minutes before they were slowing to a halt. There were no windows in the back of the van but he wasn't surprised to find it was still daylight when they parked and the demons shoved them roughly out the back doors. He stumbled as he hit the ground, his bound hands throwing his balance. Jenna's hands were free and she grabbed his arm to steady him, keeping close to him as they were ushered roughly up the walk.

They were at a house - no, scratch that, they were at a mansion. It looked like a freaking Hollywood movie star's house, with a mile-long driveway and a wrought iron gate. Immensely relieved to be out of the van but alarmed at the unexpected destination, Dean found his smart mouth jumping back into action.

"This boss-demon's place?" he quipped. "Damnit. Shoulda known my man Nicholson was possessed. Nobody's that good."

"Keep moving!" one of the demons ordered, clearly not amused.

"So, not Nicholson?" Dean rambled, his way of covering when he was nervous. "Gotta be Spielberg's place then. Spielberg a demon? That explains Jar Jar."

He was rewarded for his attempt at small talk with a punch in the gut from Lefty in the grey suit and he doubled over with a pained grunt.

"Hey stop it!" Jenna defended. "Stop hitting him!"

"Only if he stops talking. I may have to bring you freaks in alive but there's no rule against you being bloody."

"You're wearing purple socks and _**we're**_ the freaks?" Dean scoffed, wincing as he straightened back up. He half expected another hit but the demon just shoved him forward up the stone path to a back door. He was encouraged, however, by a little snicker that escaped Jenna at his side.

The inside of the large house was as fancy as the outside. It may have been a back entrance but it opened into a large foyer with marble floors and an ornate oak door on each side, the opposite wall adorned ceiling to floor with an ancient looking tapestry. The prisoners were ordered to wait there and one of the demons disappeared through the door on the right, the other three huddling together by the outside door murmuring among themselves. Dean groaned inward in frustration at not being able to untie his hands. Whichever demon tied him up must have been one Hell of a boy scout. While he had been out, he had been relieved of his leather jacket, knives, his gun, his lockpick, and his holy water.

He could feel Jenna hovering close to him and at first he figured she was just scared, seeking comfort and protection, but then he felt fingers behind his back brush his hands lightly. He gave her a questioning look.

"Stay still," she whispered, glancing nervously at the demons, who were now arguing in heated whispers, not paying much attention to their prisoners. She pulled at the ropes while still facing forward so the demons couldn't see what she was up to but was clearly getting frustrated at her lack of success.

"Geez, this freaking knot..." she frowned, tugging harder.

Dean snorted. "Tell me about it. Overkill much."

"If I get this undone, do you think we can run?"

He nodded. "Damn right." He realized as he spoke, however, that they wouldn't get far, even if he was untied. Not without a distraction, anyway. The demons were blocking the exit and if they tried to run into the house, he had no idea what to expect – probably more demons. "Okay, look here," he whispered, trying not to move his lips in case any of the demons looked his way. "I'm gonna get their attention. As soon as they move over here, you get out that back door and run. Just run and don't stop until you're clear... and then keep running." He gave her a hard look, trying to gauge if she would do it or panic. He hadn't had a chance to figure her out yet. She hadn't freaked or panicked or fallen apart so far, which was a good sign.

She opened her mouth as if about to argue but closed it again. "What about you?" she said finally.

"Don't worry about me. Get that knot undone and I'll be fine. I'll be right behind you."

He felt the ropes slip loose but wrapped the rope in his hands and kept them behind his back. He ran through possible ways to create a distraction and none of them gave him much of a chance to get out the door with Jenna. "Listen, if I give you a phone number, will you remember it?"

She gave him a confused look. "I suppose, why?"

"No, I _**need**_ you to remember it. It's my brother, Sam. If you make it out of here and by some chance I don't, you have to call him for me. Tell him everything you know. Can you do that?"

She nodded somberly.

"Six five oh, nine seven sev..."

"Don't bother," a new female voice sounded from the door across the room. "Neither of you are going anywhere."

Dean looked up to see a redhead in her thirties glaring at them. She pulled her hands to her hips and gave the three demons at the door an impatient huff. "What are you waiting for?"

The three stopped their hushed squabbling as soon as she entered and jumped to attention. Lefty gave her a nervous look. "We weren't sure what to do with them."

"Get them in the rooms!" she snapped. "Do you morons need to be told when to take a crap, too?"

"Uh, you want him in the end one and her in with Reagan?" Righty asked.

"No," she answered curtly, narrowing her eyes in thought. "Regan's finally cooperating so Boss wants to keep her isolated to make sure it stays that way. Put them both in the empty end one."

The three demons jumped into action and once again began shoving their prisoners forward.

"Let me speak to your boss," Dean demanded, instinctively struggling against the demon who had grabbed his arm. He didn't want to be taken anywhere - Sam was out there alone.

Redhead snorted. "He's a little busy. Got more important things than you to deal with."

"Who is he?"

"Huh. Like I would tell you, hunter."

Dean's lips drew into a tight line. "Lemme guess," he ventured. "Asshole douchebag with yellow eyes?"

She laughed, her amusement sounding genuine. "You're so clueless it's almost cute."

The three male demons didn't hesitate to get rough and despite his hands being free, Dean was easily overpowered. He and Jenna were led down a long hallway, through a large but modestly furnished living room, and down a set of stairs.

The lower level could hardly be described as ornate – more functional. "Where we going?" Dean groused irritably as they started down another hallway. Place was freaking huge.

"This is the staff wing," Righty informed him. "Hope you like it because you're probably going to die here."

The hall looked much like a hotel corridor, with a pair of doors every twenty feet or so, one on either side. Dean noticed the last four were heavy steel rather than the panelled wood of the first ones. They came to a stop at the end pair and Lefty pulled open a heavy sliding dead-bolt on the door on the right, pushing it open with a loud creak. Dean and Jenna were unceremoniously shoved inside and the heavy door slammed loudly shut behind them, the sound of the deadbolt clicking back into place vibrating through Dean with ominous resonance.

Dean looked around the small room they were in, Jenna next to him doing the same. Linoleum floors, white walls, and one single cot against the far wall under the bricked-in window. One small plastic table with a deck of cards on it. There was a door on the far side and he strode over quickly to push it open. A bathroom. Toilet, sink, and small stand-up shower. A couple of white towels. Again, no window. Geez, this was worse than most of the motels he stayed in, and that was saying something.

Again he felt Jenna behind him peering into the bathroom over his shoulder. He picked up the single toothbrush on the sink and turned to throw her a smirk. "Looks like we're sharing this."

She gave him a half-hearted smile in return, moving back into the room to drop heavily down on the edge of the cot, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "This is bad," she said, as if just realizing the gravity of the situation.

Dean shrugged, trying his best to appear unfazed. "Oh I dunno," he joked. "I've swapped spit with worse than you."

Her shoulders quivered in a silent laugh and her expression had brightened when she looked up at him. "You've been captured by demons who basically just told you they're going to kill you and you're still flirting?"

He waved a hand around the room. "This is nothing," he scoffed. "We'll be fine. Don't worry." He sat down next to her on the edge of the bed. "I got someone looking for me. We won't be here long."

She nodded. "Your brother?" she asked. "Sam?"

"Yup. Kid's wicked smart. He'll find us."

"I have a friend," she said hesitantly. "Quinn. She'll come looking for us too."

He knitted his brow, running through the events of the day in his mind. "You don't seem to be too freaked over seeing demons," he pointed out. "I take it these aren't your first?"

She shook her head but answered with another question. "You're a hunter, right?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah."

"So I'm thinking it's time we get to know each other," he smiled, nudging her shoulder. She raised a brow with an incredulous expression and he laughed. "You can start with your name," he told her.

She told him her name was Jenna Harrison and that she hunted now with a friend. Her mother had died when she was a child and her father when she was just eleven, leaving her eighteen-year-old brother as her legal guardian. Her brother, Jason, had taken up hunting in his early twenties but had died in a car accident just over a year ago. Her voice choked up a little as she spoke of him and Dean felt his own grief renewing itself with thoughts of his father.

"Sorry," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose in an effort to abort the tears Dean could see starting to well in her lower lids.

"S'okay," he assured her. "I lost my dad a few months ago," he then admitted in a rare moment of sharing. "I thought he was invincible but... he died to save my ass."

She patted his arm in a gesture of comfort. "He must have thought you were worth it," she said softly.

The crushing weight of guilt over his father's fate was suddenly back on his shoulders, it having taken a brief hiatus to make room for the extra Sammy-worry the past couple of weeks. "It still should have been me," he said, speaking mostly to himself. He sighed wearily and looked around the room again. "My dad wouldn't have been stupid enough to get ambushed by a bunch of demons in an alley and leave Sam unprotected," he blurted.

"Hey," she protested, giving him a light-hearted smile. "_**I** _got ambushed. You calling me stupid?"

She got half a chuckle in response, Dean's mood still heavy. "No," he assured her. "Of course not. It's just... I screwed up. I'm supposed to look out for Sam and I was **_trying_** to look out for you and... well, here we are. I'm doing a bang-up job as usual."

He swallowed and rubbed a hand down his face, pushing his worry and fear back inside where he preferred it stayed. He forced a lopsided grin and looked at the blonde next to him. "So what are we gonna do for entertainment?"

She rolled her eyes and got up, grabbing the deck of cards from the table. "I hope you like poker." She made another sweep of the room with her eyes, which came to rest on the very narrow, single bed. "Uh, and sleeping on the floor."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N**: Not a long chapter - hope you enjoyed. More action to come._


	4. Peeling the Onion

_**Previously: **__Dean and Jenna are taken to a large mansion by demons and locked up in a room in the basement. That night, demons attack Sam and Quinn back at the diner. They work well together but are both suspicious and distrustful and after hearing the demons say they want Sam alive, Quinn demands they lay low in a motel room and wants Sam to come clean._

**CHAPTER 4 – PEELING THE ONION**

Dean and Jenna were left alone in the small room for hours. In an attempt to keep from climbing the walls, Dean focused on trying to get his new roommate to trust him enough to spill what she wasn't telling him. The demons hadn't just been after him and Sam; in the van they had specifically mentioned her also. She had been in Sam's freaky vision and she was a hunter - all just a little too coincidental for Dean's liking.

That and Dean trusted his gut and his gut was telling him she was holding something back.

Despite their common situation, she wasn't opening up much, definitely not one for sharing. She clammed up every time he steered the subject to demons. He decided to drop the personal prodding for a while, instead pulling out the deck of cards and using casual conversation and friendly banter to put her at ease. After all, charming women was one of his strongest skill sets. Regardless of the crappy circumstances, he found himself enjoying her company. She may have been exceedingly guarded and private, but she was friendly and she had a nice laugh. And psychic freak or not, she was easy on the eyes.

She yawned widely and he suggested she get some shut-eye, offering to move to the floor so she could take the bed. She shook her head, claiming she couldn't sleep. "And you don't have to sleep on the floor," she added.

"Oh?" he grinned, arching an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. "I mean we can take turns. Just let me know when you want to crash."

Dean couldn't even contemplate sleeping - not stuck in here surrounded by demons with Sam out there somewhere, probably worried as shit and a breath away from doing something reckless. To top that off, the friend that Jenna kept insisting would stop at nothing to find her, Quinn, was a hunter and after Gordon Walker... Dean didn't trust other hunters and he didn't trust Sam to keep his vision crap to himself.

Food was brought to them around one o'clock in the morning, delivered by a sullen demon who simply threw the drive-thru bag at Dean and slammed the door back shut. They ate ravenously, both having skipped lunch and supper, and went back to their card game feeling much better.

"So your mother died when you were young, huh?" Dean asked her flippantly, tapping his king to indicate wanting another card. Poker had given way to Black Jack at her insistence, presumably because she was tired of his continuous urging to turn it into strip poker.

"Uh-huh," she said absently, turning up a three of clubs and laying it on his king with a satisfied smirk.

"Me too," Dean continued, tapping his cards again. They were sitting facing each other on the bed, her cross-legged and Dean with a foot on the floor on either side. "I was a couple of months shy of five. How old were you?"

"Just a baby," she said. "Like six months." She flipped over a seven, pursing her lips at Dean's twenty. Dealer only had eighteen.

Dean didn't even notice his win. "Six months old?" he demanded sharply. "Were you _**exactly**_ six months old?"

She nodded and her mouth dropped open, the cards in her hand instantly losing her attention. "Yeah, it was my six month birthday. Why? How did you know that?"

Dean wiped a hand down over his mouth. "Call it a hunch. How did your mother die?"

She hesitated for a moment but told him. "In a fire."

Dean frowned, tilting his head. "I don't buy it. Ash only found four kids whose mothers burned in their nursery and they're all accounted for. He searched the entire country from 1980 to 1986. Ash doesn't miss things."

"Well, I don't know who Ash is but my mom died in Cambodia."

"What?"

"She was a doctor. Her and my dad both were. Before she died, they used to do a lot of work in third world countries. Mobile hospitals, Red Cross, mission hospices, that kind of thing. I was actually born in Cambodia."

That explained why Ash hadn't dug up a record of the incident. "Did it start in your nursery?" he pressed.

"I didn't have a nursery. The entire hospital burned down. One of the missionaries carried me out of the fire." She threw down her cards and got up off the bed. "Why all the questions about my mom?"

Dean knew what question he wanted to ask. _What's your psychic ability? _ He had very little doubt she was one of Yellow-Eyes's 'special children', whether she knew it or not. But he decided to work up to it. She was pacing in front of him, shoulders stiff, head tilted in agitation.

"How did your dad die?" he deflected.

"How did your mom die?" she countered quickly.

He rolled a shoulder in a casual shrug. "House fire. Your dad?"

"He had pancreatic cancer. Why all the questions, Dean?"

"And your brother? How'd he die?"

"Car accident. What's this all about? Do you think there's some connection between our mom's dying in fires?" She was clearly shaken by the line of questioning.

Dean sighed and swung both his legs off the side of the bed to face her. "Could be."

She was quiet for a moment, staring at him. "What does that mean?"

"It means these demons wanted you for a reason, Jenna and I think you need to tell me what that reason is."

"I don't know!"

"Lefty seemed to think you did."

"Lefty knew _**you**_ by name, not me," she fired back, clearly getting defensive.

"But you're the one with the weird psychic thing going on." He blurted it out a little more harshly than he had intended, his hope being to catch her off guard. He studied her face for a reaction.

She looked scared. "What psychic...?" Her sentence stopped abruptly when heavy footsteps sounded outside the door and the metal lock released with a sharp clang.

Dean was on his feet instantly, pulling Jenna slightly behind him as he faced the door. It swung open to reveal the redhead demon who had ordered they be locked in here upon their arrival. Lefty and Righty entered a few steps behind her and a fourth demon in a dark suit brought up the rear, the first three moving aside as soon as they were inside to allow DarkSuit to pass through to the front. He took one look at Dean and started cursing loudly.

"...mother fucking incompetent brainless asswipes," he finally finished, his fists clenched.

Dean felt Jenna right up against him, her fingers wrapped around his arm just above the elbow. He threw a cocky smile at the demons at the door and snorted. "Well, I know I'm not you demons' favorite person but I don't usually get that bad of a reaction."

DarkSuit gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing visibly with anger. He ignored Dean and turned sideways to address Redhead. "That's the wrong one! This one's useless!" He threw his arms in the air. "How does the boss expect me to get this done when he keeps sending me clueless morons to work with? The whole bunch of you are about as sharp as a fucking cue ball. If we weren't shorthanded, I'd send you all back downstairs for a decade on the fucking rack."

Redhead's cheeks turned a deep shade of red at getting dressed down in front of her prisoners and her subordinates. As amused as Dean was to be witness to it, he worried her wounded pride would come back to bite him in the ass later.

"So can we kill him then?" Lefty ventured, sounding way too eager.

DarkSuit practically growled. "No. We may need him to make his brother cooperate."

_Oh crap_. Dean didn't like the sound of that at all. What was going on here? Was this Yellow Eyes's big plan being put into action? _For Sam and all the other children like Sam._ He spared a desperate thought to hope his brother was still safe_._

"I'll send men back to the diner to see if the other Winchester shows up, sir," Redhead said tersely. "We'll get him."

DarkSuit glared at her. "You do that." He looked back at Dean and Jenna, who were both standing silently watching the dispute. "In the meantime, bring the girl. We may as well get started with her."

Dean's stomach lurched. Jenna may be hiding something but he wasn't about to let anything bad happen to her. He felt her tense up behind him and he took a protective step forward, bracing himself. "Whoa, bring her where?" he demanded.

Redhead moved swiftly, giving him a sharp jab in the mouth he didn't have time to dodge. "None of your business," she seethed.

_Looked like that wounded pride was doing its biting already_. Lefty and Righty moved towards Jenna, who danced sideways and threw a decent punch at Righty before jumping on the bed in an attempt to get around them. Dean charged Lefty but the demons were strong and within seconds, he was on the floor taking repeated kicks in the gut and Jenna was being dragged out the door kicking and screaming.

"Jenna!" he gasped, kicking back up at Lefty in desperation. He made it to his knees only to receive a blow to the side of the head that had his vision blurring and his ears ringing. "Unnngh," he grunted. "Wait... where are you taking her? Leave her alone!"

One more punch and he was spitting blood onto the linoleum. He pushed his chest up off the floor just in time to see the door slam shut, the sounds of struggling in the hallway fading quickly and leaving him alone in guilty silence.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Quinn came out of the motel office waving a room key and pointed to a nearby door adorned with a brass number eight. Sam nodded and pulled the Impala around back to park it out of sight from the road. He popped the trunk and slipped a 9mm into the back of his pants, a knife into his sock, and a couple of zip ties into his pockets. Quinn may be a hunter and no fan of demons, but she seemed distrustful of him and her main objective was clearly to find Jenna, not necessarily Jenna and Dean. Sam supposed he couldn't really blame her for that one because if he could save Dean, he would, even at the expense of Jenna. He wasn't particularly comfortable with that ugly truth but after losing Jessica and his father in the span of a year, Dean and revenge were all Sam had left.

He gave Ash a quick call and asked him to dig up information on an ex-Army woman with the name Quinn, same person in the photo he'd sent earlier, since researching her while she was in the same room might prove difficult. As soon as he entered the surprisingly nice digs and closed the door behind him, Quinn started hounding him for information on the demons' motives and why they would want him. Sam remained tight-lipped, giving her evasive one-word answers and stalling until he heard back from Ash.

He was surprised how easily he was managing to not let Quinn's impatience and bossy attitude get to him. _Hmph, _he thought to himself, mildly amused._ He must be used to it. Living with Dean had its perks after all._

"Damnit Winchester!" she exclaimed in frustration. "You're holding back!"

Sam snorted from where he sat sprawled in one of the chairs at the table in front of his laptop, reading the impressively quick email reply from Ash. "_**I'm**_ holding back?"

She let out a tired huff and sat down on the end of one of the beds, her argument losing her steam. "I just want to find Jen," she sighed. "I don't mean to be... you know."

"Bitchy?" Sam supplied with an innocent smile.

That earned him a frown. "Look, I'm not saying I think you're in on it I just..." She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, biting her lower lip. "Jenna's brother, Jason, wasn't just a hunting partner," she said more quietly. "We were together. For five years. See, Jenna's like a little sister to me and Jason would have wanted me to look after her. I just really need to keep her safe."

Sam gave her a curious look. He had a feeling this was the first glimpse he was getting of honest feelings from her. "Well," he said pointedly, "I'll trust you when you start trusting me." He turned his laptop around to face her, her Army ID photograph displayed on the screen. "Sergeant First Class Talise Everett Quinn."

She pursed her lips but never said anything, prompting Sam to repeat more of the information Ash had dug up.

"You were court-martialed and given six months in NAVCONBRIG Miramar for striking a superior officer."

Her face broke out into a wide grin and she leaned back on her hands. "I have a problem with authority."

Sam snorted and shook his head. "And you thought joining the Army was a wise choice?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You were dishonorably discharged."

"There were extenuating circumstances," she defended. "Of the supernatural variety. I respected my uniform but I just couldn't explain what happened."

"Why wouldn't you just tell me this?" he questioned. "I mean, I'm a hunter. I'm not going to judge you based on what I see in the official records."

She gave him a long, hard stare before answering. "I didn't tell you because I had a... let's just call it an altercation with a couple of hunters about three months back. More than words were exchanged and now I'm on a few shit lists. You know how hunters talk – it's a tight community sometimes and I didn't want any hard feelings or fratboy-reprisals getting in the way of finding Jen."

Sam let the information sink in. It made sense. "Okay," he acknowledged. "But don't worry, my dad kept my brother and me out of the hunter loop growing up. We only found out last year that there were so many hunters – this giant network across the country. So I'm not going to hassle you over any beef you've got with other hunters."

She looked relieved and her shoulders relaxed just a bit.

Sam couldn't resist one more dig. "Though I can't imagine how you would get on the wrong side of anyone, what with your sweet disposition and all."

"Smartass."

He laughed but felt a sudden hollowness at the memory of being called 'bitch' a hundred times over and always replying with 'jerk'. The notion brought the mission back to the foreground - he needed to find Dean. "I still need to know about Jenna's link with demons," he said evenly. "I know she's involved."

"She's innocent."

"I'm not arguing that, but there's more to it than that. They targeted her too."

"How do you know?"

"Because she was in that vision," Sam answered. "Those visions only involve people who have a link to a certain yellow-eyed demon." He paused. "It's the same demon who killed both my mom and my girlfriend."

"Why? Why did it kill them?"

Sam shrugged. "It told me they got in the way."

"What's the demon's name?"

"I don't know. My brother just sort of dubbed it Yellow-Eyes."

"Jason was killed by a demon," she disclosed, a sudden sadness filling her eyes. "It was a car accident but I found sulfur at the scene. A year ago last December."

Sam sat up straight at the interesting revelation. Jessica was killed in November of the same year, one month before Jason. No way was that a coincidence. His girlfriend, her boyfriend... Could _**Quinn **_be the psychic?

"Talise..." he began.

"Whoa, kid, it's Quinn!"

He rolled his eyes. "Then it's Sam."

"What are you, twenty-three?"

"Almost twenty-four and you're barely twenty-nine so you don't get to call me kid."

"Winchester it is then."

"Do you deliberately try to be difficult?"

She shook her head and grinned at him. "No, that just comes naturally."

"You know, you would really get along with my brother," he groaned and raised a hand in a gesture of peace. "Okay, _**Quinn**_, I'll tell you what I know. Yellow Eyes is an upper level demon who has a special interest in a group of people who have some kind of psychic powers."

"What kind of powers?"

"It varies. I've run into a few of them in the past year."

"Are you one?"

"You answer that one first."

"What do you mean?" she gave him a puzzled look.

"Do you have any psychic abilities?" he asked bluntly, tired of beating around the bush.

She shook her head. "No I don't, but I'm willing to bet that vision of Jenna on the runaway bike didn't come to any reclusive third-party psychic. That was you."

"You're right," he said and he could have sworn she almost sighed in relief at the admission. "So if it's not you, then it's Jenna."

She stiffened.

"I'll take that as a yes. What can she do?"

"Nothing. She just has dreams; that's all."

"Dreams?" That was how his visions had started, just after he had turned twenty-two. "When did they start?"

"Just over a year ago. When she turned twenty-two."

Snap. "Is there a yellow-eyed demon in them?"

"No, not that she's ever mentioned."

"Do they come true afterwards?"

"No. But they really shake her up."

"What are they of?"

"Hell." She blinked slowly. "Jenna dreams of Hell."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Jenna was brought back into the room a couple of hours later. Dean had given up his banging on the door and was stretched out on the narrow cot, his exhaustion on the cusp if winning its battle for sleep. At the first click of the lock, however, he was on his feet again, tense and ready for whatever came in.

Lefty appeared in the doorway for only an instant, pushing the blonde girl roughly inside the room and slamming the door back shut. Dean immediately turned his attention to his returned cellmate, who looked shaken and weary. Closer inspection revealed a purpling bruise on the left side of her face, scared eyes, and stiff movements.

Jenna had taken her jacket off earlier during their card game and was wearing just a t-shirt and jeans. As Dean took her arm to guide her gently to the cot, he noticed another fresh bruise extending from her elbow to her wrist.

"What did those bastards do to you?" he seethed through clenched teeth.

"I'm okay," she murmured, practically falling onto the cot and curling up facing the wall.

"Hey, Jenna," he said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as he perched on the edge of the bed behind her. "Can you talk to me? What did they want?"

"I didn't do it," she said simply, closing her eyes. "I won't do it."

"Do what?" he pressed, not wanting to push but needing answers badly.

She just shook her head, her eyes still closed. Dean pulled the blanket up over her torso and sat back down, his back against the wall at the top of the bed and his hand still resting on her shoulder.

"Dean?" she whispered after a long, quiet minute.

"Yeah?"

"Is your brother... different?"

Alarm bells went off and he sat up straight. "Sam?" he blurted. "Of course not. He's perfectly normal." He couldn't bring himself to admit the truth about his brother out loud, especially when he didn't know who was listening. "What does this have to do with Sam? Why are you asking me that?"

She remained silent and just curled more into herself.

"Jen," he practically pleaded. "You have to tell me what's going on here."

She opened her eyes and twisted her top half over to face him, propping herself up on her elbows. "Do I?" she challenged, her voice having found a sudden strength. "Actually, I don't. I don't _**know**_ you, Dean. All I know is you're a hunter and they're not all good people. I mean, you show up at the diner looking like you do and insisting on sitting with me. Then you know my order and the demons out in the alley insist on waiting for you to come out. Then you act all fearless and funny and cute so I'd like you and then we just _**happen**_ to be thrown in here together. It's all just a little too pat, don't you think? How do I know you're not planted here to gain my trust, convince me to do what they want?"

Dean was speechless for a moment, hearing her accusation but not completely missing the _'funny and cute_' and the _'so I'd like you'_. Before he could think of what to say to defend himself, Jenna turned away and curled up again, pulling the blanket up to her neck and closing her eyes. "Just leave me alone, please Dean."

"Jenna," he pleaded softly, getting no response. "Jen? Jenna, I'm on your side. Will you just talk to me?"

She gave him a barely perceptible shake of the head but didn't turn around. He gave up after a few minutes and moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the wall with a sigh and giving her the space she wanted. In the silence of the small room, he could tell the moment she finally succumbed to sleep and he took the time to throw her jacket over the lamp to dim the light. He stared at her back for a long time, wondering what he could do to make her trust him and what could have happened to her to make her so distrustful and closed off?

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

It was past six o'clock in the morning by the time Ash called with a licence plate for the van. Sam had been taking a shower, unable to sleep even after Quinn had dozed off on one of the beds. He was just pulling his jeans back on when he heard his cell buzzing on the table out in the room. He dashed out, snatching it up and for a fraction of a second, allowed himself to hope it was Dean having found some way to call.

Quinn rolled over, blinking her way to lucidity as Sam answered, gushing a greeting into the phone as he stood bare-chested and wet-haired in the room. Ash gave him the licence plate and had also taken the initiative to track the registration to a numbered company based out of Los Angeles. It was a realty development company but the M.I.T.-dropout-turned-barfly had his suspicions about the validity of the business.

"_I would bet the first beer of the day for the rest of my life that it's a dummy company,"_ he told Sam. _"And the first beer is always the best so that's saying something."_

"You mean like a shell corporation used to hide illegally obtained money?"

"_Give the man a peanut. I forgot, you were pre-Law. You know your corporate loopholes."_

"Uh, yeah, the basics. You get an address?" Sam pressed.

Ash gave it to him, pointing out that even though he believed there was a real office there, it didn't open until eight o'clock. Sam hung up and relayed the information to Quinn. She was sitting up on her bed with her back up against the headboard and a grin on her face.

"What's so funny?" he demanded. "This can barely be considered a lead."

She laughed. "I apologize, Winchester. I will never, _**ever** _call you kid again." Her eyes roamed appreciatively up and down his bare torso. "Because that is definitely all man. Jesus, what do you do, crunches in your sleep?"

Sam was sure he turned a hundred shades of red as he grabbed a clean shirt from his duffel and pulled it on. "So we need to go to this company's office and see what we can get out of them," he deflected. "It won't open for a couple of hours so you've got time for a shower if you want one."

She swung her legs of the side of the bed, still grinning. "I'll need a cold one now."

More blushing. _Crap, why couldn't he just come back with some witty remark like his brother would have?_

"I want to go get my car and Jenna's bike away from the diner if the cops haven't seized them yet," Quinn continued, heading towards the bathroom. She stopped just inside the door and peeked back out at him, her expression suddenly serious.

"You trust this Ash guy?" she asked him.

Sam nodded. "Yes," he said truthfully. "Why?"

"Be careful who you trust," she said. "I'm just saying because… you know, not all hunters are very accepting of psychic abilities. Especially demon-related ones."

"I'm aware," Sam said wryly, the memory of Gordon Walker trying to blow him up still very fresh.

"That altercation I mentioned…" she continued, "with the hunters a few months ago? It was Walt Lindberg, Glen Speight, and Roy Olsson. Regular hunters, I'd even met them before. In the end, I had no choice but to kill Glen. See, they found out something about Jenna and her dreams and… and they came after her. They tried to _**kill** _her. They said she was a freak and no better than any other monster they hunted. They were so convinced she deserved to die. Fuck, they almost had Jenna convinced."

Sam swallowed and nodded. He had actually met the three hunters she had mentioned also. They had worked a hunt with Dean and his dad when Sam had been in his mid teens and still in high school. He hadn't cared much for them back then – even less now. "I've learned my lesson," he assured her. "I don't tell people I can't trust about the whole visions thing."

"Good," she nodded, moving into the small bathroom but giving him one last concerned look before closing the door. "Keep it that way."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:**__ Not even a cliffhanger – yay! A lot more is explained next chapter. I know this chap was a bit OC heavy but I had to get the backgrounds laid out before things get worse for the hunters. Yes, the hunters that survived the attack on jenna were Walt and Roy, the two who shot Sam and Dean in season 5 Dark Side of the Moon. I'm sure you recognized the last names I made up for them too, lol. I hope all the American readers had a good Thanksgiving weekend :-) Thanks for reading! _


	5. Baiting the Trap

_**Previously: **__Quinn tells Sam that Jenna has dreams of Hell and that demons killed Jenna's brother (who was also Quinn's boyfriend) just a month after Jessica was killed, leaving no doubt in Sam's mind that Jenna is one of YED's psychic kids. Meanwhile, the demons take Jenna away and when they bring her back, she is bruised and shaken but won't talk to Dean._

**CHAPTER 5 – Baiting the Trap**

Quinn took even less time in the shower than Sam had, coming out of the bathroom wearing the same clothes and with her towel-dried hair pulled into a ponytail. She lifted her jacket off the chair and dug a set of keys from her pocket.

"Anything?" she asked Sam, who was sitting at the table monitoring the police scanner.

He shook his head, his features pulling into a frown. "There should be something by now."

"You're right. Even if nobody's found the bodies inside, that demon I shot hanging onto the car - we left him out in the street."

"Think the demons could have cleaned up?"

She didn't look convinced. "Why would they?"

"Demons kill and leave a wake of collateral damage but they do make an effort to keep their activities off the supernatural radar," Sam explained.

"What, the less people know they exist, the less people find out how to smoke 'em?"

"Exactly."

"Makes sense. Well that's all good news," she stated, heading to the door. "Come on, let's get my car and get Jen's bike outta there before local LEO's get a clue."

Sam raised an eyebrow as he stood up. "Leo's?"

"Law Enforcement Officers," she explained with a slight roll of the eyes. "Geez, Winchester, your jacket says your dad was Marines."

"Well I wasn't exactly in Nam with him," Sam fired back. "We usually just call them cops here in the civilian world." He grabbed his keys off the table but she shook her head at him, her phone already pressed to her ear.

"We'll take a cab," she mouthed before giving the motel's address to the dispatcher on the other end of the line.

A huff escaped Sam at her speaking the suggestion like a command. He may be younger, but he was willing to bet he'd been hunting longer than she had.

"Can you drive a stick?" She tossed him her keys as she hung up the phone.

"Of course," he said indignantly. S_ince he was eight years old. _ "Can't you just leave your car there for now? Bigger problems, you know?"

"Demons are looking for you, Sam. I'm sure that classic beast you drive is your pride and joy but she stands out a bit. Let's park her for a while."

He sighed grudgingly. She had a point but he hated parking the Impala. Somehow it felt like a betrayal - Dean would be hyperventilating right about now. "She's my brother's pride and joy, actually," he said quietly, pulling his own jacket on and following her to the door.

Slunk low in the seats, they made the cab drive past the diner a couple of times but there was no sign of anything suspicious. Quinn's car was a block down the street and they disembarked there so she could get Jenna's helmet out of it.

"_**That's**_ your car?" Sam's eyes widened at the charcoal black Lotus Exige parked under the light post in front of a busy twenty-four hour Buy-More store. He gave her a curious look. "Not exactly what I was expecting."

"What, you figure me for the Prius type, Winchester?"

He chuckled at that image. "More an older model Mustang or Camaro," he admitted, frowning at the tricked out, high-end sports car. "And I didn't know the Army paid that well."

"It was Jason's pride and joy," Quinn said quietly.

Understanding immediately, Sam didn't press further and simply got in, sliding the plush leather bucket seat back as far as it would go to accommodate his long legs. He insisted on driving her right up to the diner so she could get on the bike and get away in seconds, rather than have her walk up exposed. There could still be demons watching the place and they may recognize her. For once, she agreed with no argument and they were back at the motel incident-free less than ten minutes later. Quinn parked the motorcycle out back next to the Impala, hidden from view. She dug around in the tiny trunk of her car for some clean clothes and slipped back into their room to change so they could use the fed-ruse.

As annoying and bossy as his temporary hunting partner could be, Sam nudged aside a couple of dirty thoughts as she strode back across the parking lot towards him in a neat-fitting pant suit. He always did like the Scully look, however adamantly he denied it to his brother. She ushered a reluctant Sam out of her driver's seat and they headed over to the office of the company that owned the white van Dean and Jenna had been taken in.

They were greeted by a pretty but sullen receptionist who leaned in and took a long, careful look at their fake ID's.

"Agents Randy Rhoads and Ullyssa S. Grant?" she sneered, making Sam inwardly curse Dean's insistence on using his classic rock heroes as aliases and wondering why the Hell other hunters insisted on being just as thick-headed and obvious, for Quinn certainly didn't pick her name at random either. Neither hunter flinched at the scrutiny, however, and the receptionist eventually agreed to show them the usage logs of the two vans the company owned.

"This is a realty development company with only three employees," Sam pointed out. "From what I can tell, all you really do is buy and sell properties. What do you need vans for?"

"I'm just the receptionist, Agent. The president and the vice-president like to drive vans, what can I say?"

"And they're…"

"In China on business," she cut him off with an insincere smile as she handed him the logbook. "Will be for two more weeks."

Quinn leaned suddenly over the desk, presumably reaching for a pen, and knocked the bottle of water she had carried in with her all over the unsuspecting woman. "Oops, I'm so sorry," she feigned remorse. "I'm such a clutz."

The holy water hit its mark. No sizzle on bare skin. The hunters took the large log notebook from the incensed receptionist and moved quickly away from the desk.

"Bitch, but not a demon," Quinn murmured, looking disappointed.

"That was subtle," Sam chided.

"Worked, didn't it?"

The book revealed that the van with the licence plate matching what Ash had derived from the grainy bank camera footage had been out of service at a local service garage for the past two days, getting some transmission work done. TM Motors.

_Great, yet another weak, flimsy lead._

"We've got all we're gonna get here during business hours," Sam declared. "I think Ash's hunch that this is a dummy company is right. We should ahhh..." He winced and pinched the bridge of his nose as a stabbing pain stabbed him behind the yes. _Oh crap_ – he recognized this feeling... what was coming...

_A garage... Sign reads TM Motors...  
__Dean, next to the hoist, tied to a chair...  
__A man standing behind his brother, black eyes...  
__A knife to Dean's throat...  
__A quick movement, a chortled gasp, a lot of blood..._

_Dean's lifeless eyes._

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

It was a few hours before the demons came back to the room. Jenna was finally awake but hadn't said much since apologizing for hogging the bed after her eyes opened to find Dean still sitting on the floor. Bored and rapidly going stir-crazy, Dean was trying to coax her into another round of Black Jack when the door lock clicked free.

He didn't miss the apprehension on her face as the door opened but she didn't get to her feet. Dean did, however, squaring his shoulders to the door and stubbornly preparing for another fight if this was anything but a food delivery.

Lefty appeared, flanked by Righty and a new demon he didn't recognize who, much to Dean's amusement, bore an uncanny resemblance to the dude from the Matrix. Dean quickly dubbed him Keanu and wished for a fleeting second that Sam was here to roll his eyes at the comparison.

"Let's go," Lefty ordered, beckoning Jenna to her feet.

"No way," Dean seethed, stepping between them. "She stays with me."

Lefty snorted. "Not a problem this time, Winchester. You're coming too."

Dean knew this unexpected turn likely didn't bode well for him but couldn't help but feel relief. He'd rather be in trouble out there than stuck in here helpless while these bastards did who-knows-what to Jenna. He debated fighting them again but quickly quashed the notion. He knew it would be futile and he'd just be a fat lip and a busted rib worse off than he was now; plus he needed to get out of this room if he was to have any chance of escaping.

They were ushered down the hallway and into the large staff-quarters living room they had passed through on their way in here. Redhead was standing against the far wall, hands folded across her chest and a sour expression on her face. There was a girl with short, dark hair sitting on the couch watching the big-screen next to the demon the hunter had previously nicknamed DarkSuit. She looked up as they entered, her eyes scanning Dean quickly then resting on Jenna with obvious interest.

DarkSuit flicked the TV off with the remote and got to his feet, gesturing for the girl to get up with him. "Reagan, this is Jenna," he said by way of an oddly polite introduction. "I'm sure you two will get to know each other quite well over the next few months. And this is Dean. He's the one..."

"Months?" Jenna interrupted, shaking her head vigorously. "What do you mean, months?"

"Be quiet," DarkSuit snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. "Remember our little talk about respect, Jenna dear?"

Jenna flinched visibly and Dean's anger boiled, remembering the state she had been in when she was brought back to the room early this morning, both physically and emotionally. He moved a step closer to her, trying to offer her whatever small amount of comfort and reassurance he could with his presence. At least this time she wouldn't be alone if they tried to make her do... well, whatever it was they wanted her to do.

DarkSuit kept right on talking to Reagan, pointing once again at Dean. "This is Sam's brother. Get a good look. I need you to put him in this one. Make it gory. Hurt him." He gave Dean a malicious look. "Better yet, kill him."

Dean tensed.

Lefty snickered. "Don't worry, pussy," he jeered, leaning in close to Dean's ear. "We ain't gonna kill you yet. Just a fake vision of you breathing your last breath to reel your slippery little brother in." His smile got wider. "But once we get our hands on him, I'm gonna enjoy killing you for real."

Dean's heart lurched._ Reel in Sammy? A fake vision?_ Dean stared wild-eyed at Reagan as his mind put the pieces together. "She's the one giving Sam visions?" he rasped.

Reagan looked decidedly unenthusiastic as she ignored the hunter and addressed DarkSuit. "This Sam guy's harder to find than most of us in the freak-squad." Her eyes flitted over to Jenna. "Harder than she was. All I see are tiny flashes of him. That's why I couldn't tell you where he would be last time either, remember?" She threw an almost pleading glance to DarkSuit. "He's tough to break into. Can't we do this another way? You know this guy is hard on me."

"What's hard is my foot up your ass if you don't cooperate," Righty snarled moving threateningly towards Reagan.

RedHead stopped him, stepping forward and splaying an arm in front of his chest. "No need for threats," she said sweetly. "Reagan will do what she's told." She gave Reagan a disingenuous smile. "Right?"

Reagan nodded, clearly nervous but not exactly terrified. She sighed and put two fingers up to each temple, her thumbs on either side of her jaw and her eyes closed.

"Make sure you put TM Motors in there," DarkSuit instructed. "You've seen the photos. We have people there waiting for him."

"Hey, wait!" Dean cried, alarmed. "Don't! Reagan! Whatever you're gonna do to my brother... don't!" He was rewarded with a hard punch in the gut, something he should have seen coming but was too distracted with worry for Sam to think straight. It completely winded him and dropped him to his knees.

Jenna picked up where he left off and Dean was thankful her rant didn't get dealt with quite as swiftly. "Stop it!" she yelled, addressing Reagan. "They're demons! Why are you doing what they say? You're human aren't you? You can't do this! You fucking coward!"

Reagan seemed to be ignoring Jenna, only opening her eyes once to take a long, studious look at Dean, who clenched his teeth in fury, feeling incredibly helpless as he imagined what Sam was about to go through... and how his little brother would charge right into whatever trap the demons were setting for him after seeing Dean die.

It only took half a minute. Reagan let out a burst of breath and her knees wobbled beneath her. DarkSuit stepped forward and clasped her around the waist to steady her, nodding his head in approval. "Good job, dear." The girl was panting and clutching DarkSuit in return for the next minute or two as she steadied herself.

"You coward," Jenna hissed, Righty's large hand wrapped around her bicep to hold her back. "I can't believe you're helping demons!"

Reagan's face grew dark. "You will too, blondie. Get off your high horse."

"No I won't."

Dean was heartened to see some fight in Jenna but knew if he didn't get her out of there soon, she would either give in and do what they wanted or end up badly hurt or worse - dead. Nobody could hold out forever and he was pretty sure demons could get creative in finding ways to convince people.

Reagan simply snorted and tossed her head before turning to DarkSuit. "I did what you wanted..." she said, her tone leading.

DarkSuit nodded and pointed to Lefty. "Take her outside for an hour. She earned it."

Dean watched Reagan and Lefty head towards the stairs on the far side of the room, his fists clenched in silent fury. _She'd just sold out his brother for an hour in the yard. _

Redhead turned to face the remaining prisoners with a smug grin. "See what being a good girl will get you?"

Jenna stood her ground, her expression adamant. "I'm never going to do it."

"Yes, you will," DarkSuit snapped. "In fact, it's your turn now."

Dean jerked in reaction, tensing up and cursing inwardly at being weaponless, outnumbered, and completely freaking useless. "Leave her alone," he demanded, managing to sound convincingly threatening despite the obvious opposite truth. "Like you said, you'll have Sam soon. Leave Jenna out of it."

DarkSuit gave him an incredulous look. "Apples and oranges, Deano."

With a flick of the wrist, Dean was launched through the air and slammed into the wall behind them. There was a blindingly painful pressure on his chest and the more he struggled, the worse it got. He could barely make out two demons quickly grabbing Jenna's arms and by the time the pressure released and he slumped to the ground, she was gone, her defiant but frightened cries drifting back to him from behind a door on the far side of the room.

_Damnit. DarkSuit had the same mojo Yellow-Eyes had. Was DarkSuit in fact Yellow-Eyes? Or did lots of demons have it? _

His thoughts were interrupted by Redhead squatting down in front of him. "Time to go back to your room, Deanie-boy," she taunted.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Sam was barely aware he was moving. He had felt a jarring pain shoot up his legs and knew he had dropped to his knees at some point, but couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he had made it back to his feet. His head was spinning and the pounding in his skull was making cognitive thought difficult. He knew he was getting help and at first thought it was Dean, that feeling of reassurance his brother's presence always gave him sweeping through him. Then he heard a voice, Quinn's voice, and remembered Dean wasn't there.

_Dean... The vision..._

"Get away from him!" he heard Quinn bark, presumably at the receptionist. "Come on, Winchester; you gotta get your legs under you, man!"

His blurry field of view cleared enough for him to make out Quinn waving her pistol in the direction of the receptionist. She had her shoulder tucked under his arm and was half-pushing up, half-dragging him towards the door. He struggled to help, pushing himself upright and staggering in the direction she was tugging.

"Stay the fuck back!" Quinn yelled again, clearly not trusting the receptionist to come any closer. The brightness of the morning sun hit Sam and he could only assume they were outdoors. Next thing he knew, he was being shoved into the passenger side of Quinn's car and the door slammed shut beside him. He planted his hands on the dash and fought to clear his mind.

These visions were getting more and more violent. The one with Jenna and the bike had been a good deal worse than any that had come before it but this one took the cake. Of course, what he had seen in this one made the others look like picnics at the beach...

"Dean," he gasped, hearing rather than seeing Quinn slide herself into the driver's seat. Within seconds the car was moving. With a tremendous amount of willpower, he finally managed to gain some semblance of control over his breathing. "Dean," he repeated, unable to elaborate just yet.

"What the hell was that?" Quinn demanded. He rolled his head sideways to look at her, blinking her into focus. She was driving fast and paying attention to the road and out the back window but kept throwing tense and worried glances his way.

"Vision," he explained, reaching up to wipe the blood from his nose. "I saw Dean. At TM Motors. He's gonna... he's gonna..." He swallowed and forced himself to get the words out. "They're gonna kill him."

Quinn frowned. "Was Jenna there?"

Sam shook his head. "Didn't see her."

"When does this happen? How long do we have?"

"I don't know. It's different every time. But recently it's been giving me less and less notice so probably very soon. We have to hurry."

She pursed her lips. "You're in no shape, Winchester. I'll check it out. You stay back."

"No!" Sam barked, sitting up straighter in his seat and putting every ounce of effort into pulling himself together. "No way."

"But..."

"It's my _**brother**_, Quinn."

She glowered at him. "Fine. But you better buck up quick coz I can't carry you in there."

There were a few moments of silence as she punched the name of the garage into her GPS and steered the car in that direction. Biting her lower lip she turned towards him and gave him a lingering look.

"What?" he challenged. "I'll be fine."

"It's not that," she shrugged. "It's just... well, when you told me you had visions that sometimes came true, I thought you had it so much easier than Jenna. That you weren't even close to being in the same boat but... wow."

Sam managed a tired smile. "That bad, huh?"

She grinned. "You look like shit, kid."

"Hey," he protested wearily. "No more 'kid', remember?"

"Sorry," she smirked, reaching out and giving his hair a teasing flick out of his eyes. "It's the bangs. You look young."

He got out a light chuckle before his brow knitted in thought. "Wait, I thought Jenna just had dreams. Why would dreams be so much worse than visions?"

She blew out a loud breath, clearly regretting her slip and internaly struggling with something.

"What aren't you telling me?" he pressed.

"I'm not sure it really matters right now," she deflected.

"Bullcrap. You've gotta trust someone sometime, Quinn. I keep trying to tell my brother that." He pointed to his bloody nose. "I think it's safe to say I'm on Jenna's side," he snapped.

"Alright," she relented. "Jenna started out just having dreams. And don't get me wrong, that was bad enough, but they got worse. She started getting physically hurt in them."

She paused and Sam motioned to keep going. "Was it Yellow-Eyes?"

"No, he wasn't there. At least she never mentioned him. But he's a demon possessing a human, right? The yellow-eye thing might just be a part of that so I don't really know. It wasn't possessed people hurting her, it was actual demons… in Hell. They speak to her, beg her to pull them out. They grab onto her and in her dream she tries to get away, shake them loose but..."

"But what?" Sam blurted, fascinated.

"She wakes up screaming and in pain. She has bruises where they've grabbed her. They're not just dreams."

Sam let the new information soak in. "What does it all mean?"

"I don't know, damnit!" Quinn slammed a hand onto the steering wheel, her frustration at the whole situation bubbling over in an angry display. Sam didn't take any offense, realizing she wasn't yelling at him. He'd seen the same reaction from Dean a thousand times. "I hate this," Quinn continued. "These 'dreams' are getting more frequent and more vivid and... and last month she woke up screaming but this time, black smoke spewed out of her mouth."

"She was possessed?"

Quinn shook her head. "No. That's just it. Not when she went to sleep. She has an anti-possession tattoo and we had the motel room door salted. But when she woke up..." She frowned again and gave Sam a long, hard stare when she came to a stop at a red light. "Look, she may be tied to demons but she's a good person - she's human." There was a pause. "So are you. On both counts."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond but Quinn then proceeded to yell and honk at the driver of a red sedan and the moment was gone. His lips curled into a small smile as he tipped his head back in the way-too-comfortable seat and closed his eyes, waiting for the pounding in his head to subside.

Trapped in heavy rush-hour traffic, it took them another twenty-five minutes to reach TM Motors. Sam was anxious to get there but on the flipside, thankful for the extra time to pull himself together. Quinn pulled the car over in a private spot nearby that was mostly hidden by a dumpster and they got out to arm up.

Sam was worried about their lack of weapons. He'd seen the tiny trunk in this car so he doubted Quinn had enough hunting weaponry to take on multiple demons. They had been lucky at the diner. This morning, he hadn't been expecting to be heading head first into a demon fight but now he was regretting letting Quinn convince him to park the Impala.

She didn't go to the trunk, heading instead to the hood and popping it open. Sam moved around to stand next to her and whistled at what he saw. The front storage space was small but filled to the brim. Instead of weapons being tossed in inside duffels or in a large pile like the Winchester's semi-organized stash, every piece was carefully arranged to maximize the use of the space, like a Tetris game.

"Picked up some packing skills in the Army, huh?" he joked, taking the sawed-off shotgun she handed him.

She laughed. "Car's not exactly ideal for hunting," she admitted, rooting quickly through her supplies.

"Wasn't Jason a hunter?"

"Yeah, but he had a weakness for things that go fast," she said, shaking her head and smiling fondly. "Big frigging kid. Same as his sister and that damn bike."

She handed him a handful of salt rounds and a second flask of holy water. Sam tucked them into his suit jacket, wishing he had brought a change of clothes.

"At least the Lotus has a CD player," he pointed out. "I get to listen to a Metallica cassette tape over and over that has been played so many times it warbles."

"Metallica? I'm more into Pearl Jam and Audioslave myself."

"Really? And here I was starting to think you were _**actually**_ my brother."

She yanked off her suit jacket and tossed it in the driver's window, followed closely by the blouse she had been wearing for the Fed gig, leaving her in just a black bra for a few seconds before she pulled on a cotton t-shirt. Caught unaware, Sam coughed lightly and quickly looked away, but not before guiltily thinking he had liked what he'd seen. _Damn, the woman was fit._

She laughed as she pulled a coat with pockets on over the t-shirt. "What's the matter, never seen breasts before, Winchester?"

"Okay, _**so**_ not my brother." He tried to joke away the flush rising in his cheeks.

She tucked a third gun into one of her inside pockets and pulled a 50 cal out, frowning at it for a few seconds before putting it almost reluctantly back into the trunk.

Sam rolled his eyes. "But then again..."

She slammed the hood shut. "You ready?"

He nodded, his expression instantly serious. "Yeah, let's do this. Let's go get Dean."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean cursed repeatedly as he scraped away at the tile grout, trying not to make any noise. He had managed to swipe a teaspoon during his trip to the living room to model for Reagan, the traitorous vision-bitch. A fucking, dull teaspoon. Their prison-room was at the end of the hallway so it had cement foundation walls on two sides and the window was bricked in. He didn't have Andy Dufresne's twenty years to dig his way out so a hole in the shower stall wall into the end of the hallway was the only viable option. He had to keep it neat just in case demon maid service came in here to change their one measly towel so he hadn't made it very far by the time he heard the door opening.

He dropped everything and hung the towel from the showerhead, covering the hole. A quick flush of the toilet and he walked swiftly back into the room, pretending to button up his jeans. He saw Lefty and Keanu standing just inside the door with suspicious expressions.

He waved his hand in the air in front of his nose. "I wouldn't go in there if I was you," he grinned.

He peered behind them as they both gave him looks of disgust. He was about to make a comment about his certainty that demon-shit stank too but it occurred to him that they didn't have Jenna with them and the thought dissipated. "Where's Jenna?" he demanded.

Lefty stepped forward and grabbed his arm, yanking him towards the door. "Come find out," he growled humorlessly.

Dean obeyed with trepidation, walking ahead of the two demons back down the hallway. "Is she okay?" he ventured, not really expecting a response.

"Better'n you'll be in about two minutes," Lefty sneered.

"Yeah, seems your girlfriend needs a little incentive to cooperate," Keanu added, his voice high and nasally-sounding and nothing like the _"I know Kung-Fu_" Dean had expected. The hunter almost took back the nickname but worry snatched the thought from him. _Incentive?_ Crap. This wasn't going to end well for him.

They passed through the living room in the direction Jenna had been taken before, through a heavy door and into another large room. This room was empty, with bare walls and an exposed concrete floor that had a large, twenty-foot diameter circle painted on it with some symbols around the edges. Dean didn't recognize any of them and for the hundredth time, wished geek-boy Sam was here to decipher. Righty, DarkSuit, and Redhead were all here also, as well as another demon Dean hadn't seen before.

No, wait, the last demon had his arms pinned by Righty and looked terrified, a 'boo' away from wetting his pants. That was a human.

Then there was Jenna. She was in the middle of the circle, looking haggard and weary, her face streaked with telltale signs of dried tears. Dean swallowed when he caught her eye, hating the frightened look she was giving him. He took a quick step forward towards her but Lefty and Keanu stopped him and speedily strong-armed him down onto his knees.

"Alright, dear," DarkSuit stepped forward, addressing Jenna. "You have the name. Do your thing."

She looked at Dean and then over at the human on the other side of the room. Dean shook his head. "Don't do it," he said defiantly. He didn't know what 'it' was but it obviously wasn't good and hell, it may involve his brother. "Don't you do it, Jen."

He got a kick in the ribs and knew it was just the beginning. A punch in the face came next, splitting his already swollen lip. He spat out blood onto the floor and pushed himself upright again amidst Jenna's pleas to stop hitting him. He smiled at her through his bloody teeth. "Like I said, don't do it."

The next few punches knocked him to the ground again and had him dazed for a few seconds after they stopped. He felt strong hands in his shirt yanking him upright again.

"Do it!" DarkSuit yelled. "Or we keep going!"

He caught Jenna's eye and by the apologetic look she gave him, was sure she was going to give in. He tried to shake his head to tell her not to but she looked directly at DarkSuit. "No," she said firmly. "No."

Dean grinned, tasting the blood in his mouth. "Atta girl," he encouraged, bracing himself for another round of punches and kicks.

But they never came. Instead, DarkSuit held up his arm, gesturing to Lefty. "Fine," he said menacingly. "But I think you misunderstand the situation. See, we don't need him. We only need his brother. If he's no use to us..."

Dean felt a cold, steel muzzle against his temple.

"Kill him," DarkSuit finished with a casual shrug.

Dean's breath caught and the next five seconds were some of the longest in his life. He heard the pistol cocking right next to his ear and felt Lefty's fist clutch tighter in his flannel to make sure he didn't move as the demon squeezed the trigger. Fuck, they were really doing to do it. A few pounding heartbeats went by before he heard Jenna shouting.

"No! No! Wait! I'll do what you want!" she screamed, sounding desperate. "I'll do it, I'll do it. Please don't shoot him."

The gun relaxed against his temple and Dean was able to breathe again. He looked up to see Jenna's terrified face facing his, her eyes wild.

"Okay then," DarkSuit said calmly. "Do it. But one slip-up and we shoot him. You stop, and we shoot him. You give me any more lip, and… well, you get the picture."

Dean wanted to yell at her not to do it but this time his throat just wouldn't let the damning words come out, so he just knelt there, arms pinned and chest heaving. He averted his eyes, dropping them down to the floor in front of him in a rush of shame until she looked away.

Jenna was visibly shaking and she turned to the man being held quietly on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry," she stammered before scrunching her eyes closed and clenching her fists at her sides.

The lights flickered and then dimmed ominously and the demons all fell silent. Dean could feel the excitement and the anticipation in the room, emanating from the demons around him. A sourceless heat tickled his face and the lights shot up to full brightness, the bulb in the wall lamp across the room shattering noisily. More flickering and the man being held in Righty's grasp whimpered.

Jenna finally opened her eyes, gasping, and fell to her knees. DarkSuit stepped right up to the edge of the circle and spoke, his voice low and fierce. "Keep going," he seethed.

"I can't," she panted, looking like she was ready to faint.

"You can and you will."

Dean's head was yanked up from behind and the gun pressed harder to his temple.

"He's too far in," Jenna pleaded, shaking her head, shameful eyes flitting towards Dean.

"Trust me, you can do it," DarkSuit said evenly, suddenly sounding eerily like a father encouraging their kid at little league. "It's what you were meant for."

Dean didn't like the sound of that and decided all over again this wasn't worth it, that _**he** _wasn't worth this. "Don't!" he managed, ignoring the gun muzzle now making a red mark in the side of his face.

"Do it or he dies," DarkSuit said sternly.

"Don..ngn." The barrel of the gun was shoved right into his mouth, muffling his protest.

"Shut up," Lefty growled.

Jenna closed her eyes again and within seconds, the lights were flickering again and the hot air was back, this time accompanied by a slight trembling of the entire room around them. Thirty seconds or so were all it took before Jenna was quivering furiously in the middle of the circle, her body starting to spasm. Her head tipped back and Dean watched in shock and horror as a stream of black smoke shot out of her mouth, swirling violently around the room before disappearing down the throat of the panicked man next to Righty.

There was an instant of utter, surreal silence before Jenna let out a weak gasp and slumped boneless towards the ground. DarkSuit lunged forward to catch her head before it cracked on the concrete and lowered it down almost gently before stepping over her to stand in front of the now-possessed man.

Dean couldn't take his eyes off Jenna. She wasn't moving and her eyes were closed. Was she dead? The gun was absently withdrawn from his mouth. "Jen?" he rasped but got no reply.

The possessed man stood up straight, adopting a definite air of authority that hadn't been there before. "What took you so long?" he snarled at DarkSuit, who clearly wasn't the boss anymore.

"Trouble with the asshole's freaks," Darksuit replied by way of explanation, pointing to Jenna.

The new demon nodded, his forehead creasing in concern as he took in the girl on the floor. "She still in commission?"

DarkSuit nodded. "Yeah, she'll live." He gestured to Righty to pick the blonde up. "She's got plenty more pulls in her. It gets easier as they go." He gave Dean a triumphant smirk. "The plan's right on track."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:**__ OK, I threw in a few tiny shout-outs to 'Chuck', 'Shawshank Redemption', and 'Sons of Anarchy' there, not sure if anyone caught them, lol. I think this chapter will have answered a lot of questions but there are a lot more twists and demon plots to come. Also, don't worry, the brothers will be reunited at some point - they won't be apart the entire fic._


	6. If You Can't Help the one you Love

_**Previously**__: Quinn and Sam are checking out the van's company when Sam has another vision that shows Dean being killed by a demon at TM Motors. That vision, however, was faked by another of the psychic kids being held prisoner with Dean and Jenna but who is cooperating with the demons. The demons then threaten to shoot Dean if Jenna doesn't cooperate so she does and black smoke shoots out of her mouth and possesses a man the demons had held captive in the room. _

**CHAPTER 6 – If You Can't Help the One You Love, Help the One You're With**

Sam and Quinn salted as many doors as they could in case they were spotted and had to leave at a run. The garage faced sideways to the street and had a sheltered front lot that was unusually quiet for a place that should have opened over an hour ago. In fact, it was completely empty save a few derelict-looking cars. The large bay doors along the front were all fully closed so they poured a salt line along them too. The front office doors, however, were all glass and the hunters didn't want to risk approaching them in case they were seen by the bored-looking guy sitting behind the service desk, so those remained unsalted.

In Sam's vision, Dean had been tied to a chair near a hoist in the main service area, which was at the front of the building. His would-be rescuers crept up to a solid metal door in the back of the building, each holding a loaded sawed-off shotgun. Sam deftly picked the lock and pushed the door open without making a sound but before he could move inside, Quinn slipped past him, weapon raised. She took a couple of steps into the building and stopped, holding a hand out behind her to stop Sam in his tracks as she cocked her head to listen. He instinctively obeyed, looking around sharply as his eyes adjusted to the dim light inside. They were in an empty lunchroom that had two doors out of it. Quinn tilted her head and made a couple of hand gestures in the air. Recognizing his dad's _'stealth mode_' sign language, Sam knew she was saying to split up and take the left door while she took the right.

He frowned and shook his head but she just repeated the gesture and started moving away. He gritted his teeth in frustration but complied, just like he always did with Dean.

He pulled open the door on the left side of the room soundlessly open to find he was staring along the back of the garage service shop, an array of tools, machinery, and air hoses hanging from the wall. He heard voices and pressed himself against the doorframe, leaning forward just enough to peer around the corner.

This was the shop from his vision – he recognized it immediately. It was four bays wide and there was a hoist in each bay. There were no mechanics working and no torque wrench buzzes or compressed air sounds that usually went along with a service garage. Instead, the room was empty except for one white van in the second bay and two men standing at the far end around a chair. Sam could make out the shape of a third man sitting in the chair and his heart skipped a beat. The chair was facing away from him and the man's head was slumped forward, but from the broad shoulders and dark blue shirt, Sam was sure it was Dean. But the man wasn't moving.

_Please don't let him be too late._

The two standing by the chair didn't look like they were going anywhere anytime soon. So much for the quiet rescue where they slip Dean out of here without ever alerting the demons.

"Where the fuck is he?" one of the men growled suddenly to his companion. "Thought he'd be here by now." He gave the man in the chair a slap on the back of the head, evoking a grunted response that sent a wave of relief through the hunter in the shadows. "Thought he'd want to save his pain-in-the-ass brother."

Sam was already moving swiftly and silently towards them, his desperation to avoid a repeat of his vision causing the implication of what the demons were saying to sink in too slowly. He was halfway there by the time their words did eventually register and he stopped abruptly.

_Were they talking about him? Were they expecting him?_ Doubt only had a second to sweep through Sam before one of the men standing next to the chair turned and saw him.

Trap or no trap, things were about to get ugly. He raised the shotgun and pointed it towards the closest man, hesitant to shoot until he knew for certain it was a demon. His proof was provided almost immediately when the man's eyes flitted black.

"It's him!" the demon shouted just before taking a salt round blast to the chest and falling back onto the cement floor. Sam swung the gun sideways and fired at the second demon. This one cried out in pain but stood his ground, prompting Sam to fire again, and again, and again. He could hear more firing from the adjacent room in the direction Quinn had gone but only spared a second to worry about her as he had reached the man in the chair.

"Dean!" he gushed, wrapping a fist in the fabric of the blue shirt and shaking him to see if he was awake.

He realized it wasn't his brother even before the man's head lifted to reveal a stranger with a taunting grin.

"Sorry, Sam. Dean couldn't make it."

"Where is he?!" Sam demanded fiercely, jabbing the butt of the shotgun at the man's face since he was too close to fire.

The man's hand shot up and he snatched the weapon from Sam's hands, the fake-knotted ropes falling from his wrists to the floor. The hunter immediately started chanting a Latin exorcism as he took a hasty step back and reached for the flask of holy water in his pocket.

He barely had time to splash it at the demon in front of him before one of the demons that had risen from the floor was grabbing him from behind, trying to pin his arms behind his back. He spun and punched him, using his holy water again to hold him off as he tried to run.

He only got three steps before they were on him, all three demons, bowling him over and tackling him in a writhing heap on the floor. He kicked and punched and struggled for all he was worth, trying to get enough Latin words out to at least have an effect on them but continual blows to the gut kept winding him, interrupting the exorcisms. He could hear more shots and loud banging noises indicative of a struggle or a fight in the next room and wondered fleetingly if Quinn could have found Dean.

This was a trap. They knew he was coming. Dean wasn't here. The painful truth sank in just as a boot landed in his gut, this one landing solidly enough to make his whole body go lax.

Two of the demons hauled him roughly to his feet, tightening their hold as he recovered and renewed his vigorous struggle. They dragged him towards the white van and opened the back doors while the third hit the button to open the bay door and got into the driver's seat. As he was shoved violently inside, Sam wrapped his fingers around the door frame in a last desperate attempt, knowing if they got the van door closed he was screwed.

A hard hit to the solar plexus and his hands let go against his will. Completely winded, he looked up just in time to see Quinn dash into the service bay, a thin line of blood running down her chin. Her eyes widened as she saw him and she started running in his direction but the van door slammed shut and vehicle started moving. Sam heard shots being fired and a couple of bullets ricocheting around the wheel wells but the van kept going, tires intact.

At least Quinn was safe, he thought as he gulped a raspy mouthful of air into his lungs.

Giving up just wasn't the Winchester genes. He took two deep breaths and kicked up at the two demons in the back of the van with him, scrambling towards the back door again. If he had to jump out at fifty miles per hour, so be it.

He was disheartened to find there was no inside handle. The demons obviously noted his disappointment for they both started laughing.

"Just give up, Winchester," one panted heavily, leaning over with his hands on his knees. "Don't you know when you're beat?"

"Where's my brother?" was his heated reply as he pushed up to his feet, bracing himself against the wall as the two demons on the other side of the confined space were doing.

"Livin' it up in a room at the Ritz," was the sarcastic reply. "So why don't you sit your ass down and we'll take you there so you two can cuddle."

Sam knew the hunched over stand-off in the back of the van was pointless. He was well and truly captured at this point. Part of him was relieved for these demons were likely really taking him to the same place so as Dean so he would at least get to see his brother, know he was alright. But he couldn't exactly help Dean if they were both imprisoned somewhere. And some part of him knew this had to do with the 'plans' Yellow-Eyes had for him and if he was being honest, that scared the shit out of him.

He hadn't decided yet whether to be complacent or stubborn when the choice was taken away from him. There was a screech of tires and the van suddenly lurched, throwing all three men in the back into the cold, hard metal of the side panel. Another swerve and a bang and another swerve, then a sickening crunch and an abrupt stop that sent Sam flying headfirst into the bench that ran up one side of the van.

He felt the steel rip into the flesh of his side and knew he was bleeding badly before his body even came to a stop on the metal floor. A grunt of pain escaped him and for the next few seconds all he could make out was the cursing and pained growls of the two demons trying to untangle their limbs from the heap they were all in.

The demons made it to their feet first, the closest looking down at him and releasing a new slew of curse words. "He's bleeding," he spat, reaching for Sam's arm and rolling him so he was laid out on the floor.

"He'd better not die or the boss is gonna flay us alive," the second snapped, leaning down to pull the blood-soaked shirt out of Sam's trousers and push it up his chest.

The hunter managed to tilt his head downwards and let out a surprised chortled sound at the large patch of blood on the front of his white shirt. He could feel the warmth of a fresh cut but the pain hadn't hit him yet. He instinctively moved to sit up but stopped at the flood of sunlight that hit him when one of the back doors flew open.

Several shotgun blasts rang out and the two demons above him were suddenly yelling and writhing and then lunging out the back door at their attacker. He saw Quinn's face appear for a brief instant before he heard her yelling at him.

"Move your ass, Winchester!"

He shook his head clear and forced himself up, scrambling towards the scuffle he could hear going on outside. He slid out the back door to find Quinn fighting to break free from the first demon who had one of her arms pinned behind her. The shotgun was nowhere in sight but she had a 9mm drawn instead. The second demon was in front of her and Sam watched in horror as she raised her free hand and fired two shots right into his eyes.

_Damnit, there was a human in there._

The demon fell to the ground screaming until a funnel of black smoke shot from its mouth. It swirled around Quinn for a full turn before breaking away and tearing off down the street. Sam grabbed the demon that still had a hold of Quinn and yanked him off her. The demon was too strong for Sam to hold and he broke free almost instantly but Quinn spun around and with only a flicker of hesitation, shot that one in both eyes too. He immediately staggered away, flailing around blindly before the demon's true form tore out of him also, disappearing into the air somewhere over the van.

Sam swayed on his feet for a second, starting to feel the effects of blood loss as he as he stared at the gory sight of the two dead and bloody meatsuits before him. Quinn reached forward and grabbed his forearm, concerned creases in her forehead.

"You're bleeding," she stated, a wild grin suddenly appearing on her face. "Holy shit, you sure don't go down without a fight, do you? Can you make it to the car?"

He nodded, looking around hastily to see her Exige parked haphazardly in the middle of the quiet street with the driver's door still open and huge dents all down one side. Well, that explained the van's lurching and why its hood was now wrapped around a telephone pole – Quinn had run them off the road.

There was an angry shout and suddenly the driver was out and running down the side of the van towards them, fury painted on his face. Sam saw Quinn in his peripheral, tensing and tightening the grip on her 9mm but his eyes were drawn instead to the gun in the demon's hand.

A dozen thoughts ran through Sam's head in an instant, as they do in moments of pure adrenaline. _This demon was the same one who'd had the gun last night when the demons had attacked the hunters at the diner. This guy had tried to shoot Quinn then. The look he was giving her this very second indicated he was planning on finishing the job right now. This guy was moving too fast. They would never find cover before he could fire. Quinn had practically no chance of taking him down permanently before the demon shot her. This was not going to end well._

But there was one thought that never ran through his mind. The thought that stopped the demon was instinctive, not intentional. "No!" Sam shouted, raising his hand so his arm was outstretched towards the demon. The second back door of the van, the one that had still been closed, suddenly flew open with incredible force, slamming into the demon's face as he rounded the back of the van. The demon was thrown to the ground with a cracking noise and the gun dropped out of his grasp.

Sam picked it up swiftly and was tugging Quinn towards her car before he even realized his energy level was far higher than it should be considering the state he was in a few seconds ago. Quinn faltered for a moment, her mouth gaping open as she darted her gaze back and forth between Sam and the stunned demon on the pavement. To Sam's relief, she recovered quickly and ran the few steps to her car. Sam made it around to the passenger side and as soon as he had sunk into the seat, they were skidding away with a loud squeal of tires.

A block away and the misleading energy boost faded as quickly as it had come, leaving Sam on the verge of passing out again. A soft groan escaped his lips and he tipped his head back in the seat.

"Uh, you need a hospital?" Quinn asked, her voice shaky.

He shook his head, forcing his eyes to stay open. "No. No, too risky. Just... back to the motel."

He felt a gentle hand pulling at his suit jacket and lifting his shirt. He looked over to see her frowning at the sight of the cut in his side. "That's pretty bad, Winchester."

"Can you stitch?" he slurred.

"Yeah... but I'm not a medic. It'll be pretty rudimentary."

"That'll do." His dad's rule that he or Dean better be dead or dying before risking a trip to a hospital floated through his spinning brain. Wondering how he had swung that van door chased the thought.

He wasn't sure if he passed out for a while because the drive seemed short and before he knew it, Quinn was pulling right up to the motel door. She pulled his suit jacket closed in an attempt to hide the blood and helped him into the room before taking the car around back to hide it with the Impala and Jenna's motorcycle.

Sam dropped down onto his bed, a hand pressing against the cut. He had a dozen other large bruises and his head was pounding but the cut was definitely the most worrying. Quinn came into the room with a first aid kit in her hand and immediately salted the door. She tossed a small, canvas pouch onto the bed next to Sam.

"Keep that close," she told him as she headed for the bathroom for towels. "It's a hex bag. I'll explain after I stitch you up."

He heard the tap running but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of her retching. Sam was mildly surprised and wondered if she was hurt or if today's bloodshed had just shaken her enough to puke. He hadn't expected that reaction because she had shot those demons right in the face without flinching, a move Sam didn't think he could have gone through with.

She came back out and climbed on the bed with him without saying anything, helping him out of his jacket and shirt. As she cleaned the cut with a wet towel, Sam studied her tense face.

"That the first time you've shot someone?" he asked, trying to keep his mind off the searing pain in his side.

Her expression softened and she sighed as she picked up the suture needle. "First ones that weren't shooting back at me. First so close up. It was different than in Iraq."

"They were demons," he defended, realizing he was arguing the side his brother usually took.

"The people inside weren't. Those two today and that one last night. I didn't kill the demons; I killed them."

Sam just nodded in understanding, his teeth gritted too tightly in pain to speak right away as she pulled the edges of he cut together. _Collateral damage. _Just like Jessica. Just like his mom. The list went on.

"You saved me," he offered meekly, the words draining him of the last of his energy. His parting thought before the room faded to black was a desperate hope that Dean wasn't added to that list.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean woke up suddenly, unsure if it was from the metal bar at the edge of the narrow cot digging into his back or by movement from Jenna next to him. Turning his head, he found her lying peacefully so he stole a glance at his watch. One o'clock in the morning. She'd been out for over sixteen hours.

When she had collapsed after spewing demon smoke, the demons had brought the pair of them back to their room. They had dumped her on the cot and she hadn't moved since. Lunch and then supper had been delivered and still, she hadn't stirred.

Dean had spent the day digging away in the bathroom with his spoon. Even the wall through to the hallway had a damn layer of bricks between the layers of drywall. Once he'd managed to get the first brick out, the second had come easier but he still only had a hole big enough to stick his arm through. He had to do it quietly and without breaking through the far side sheet of drywall in case the demons saw it in the hallway. Considering he'd only slept a total of three hours in the last three days, exhaustion finally caught up with him and he decided he could justify a quick powernap to recharge. It wasn't like he could try to escape before Jenna woke up anyway.

The cot was narrow but she didn't take up a lot of room so he allowed himself to squeeze on next to her. Three-quarters of him being on the mattress was better than all of him being on the floor. He'd fallen asleep within minutes.

Now he let out a long sigh and tried to will his tired and bruised muscles to get up and get back to working on his getaway hole. Before he could sit up, however, he heard Jenna's breathing deviate from its even rhythm and glanced sideways again to see her head move and her eyes flutter open.

"Hi," he greeted her softly, propping his head up on bended elbow and rolling onto his side to face her. "Wakey wakey."

She blinked slowly a couple of times, a confused expression finally giving way to one Dean couldn't quite identify. She scrunched her eyes tightly closed again and reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Oh God," she whispered.

"Not exactly the reaction a guy wants when a girl wakes up in bed with him." Dean tried for levity.

She didn't even come close to cracking a smile, instead turning quickly away from him to face the wall.

"Uh, are you hurt?" he asked, suddenly concerned. "Jenna?"

She shook her head. "You saw, didn't you?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "What I did?"

Dean put a hand intending to be comforting on her shoulder but she flinched and tensed beneath his touch.

"So now you know," she said. "You know what I am. That I'm a freak."

"Hey," Dean admonished. "You're not exactly the first psychic I've met."

"I'm not a psychic," she argued, still not turning around. "This is a demon thing. I'm this way because I'm connected to demons somehow."

"Connected to doesn't mean shit." Dean reached over and rolled her shoulder firmly towards him. "You're a hunter, a human like the rest of us."

She shook her head, just giving him the briefest of glances before averting her eyes. "A couple of months back, these hunters found out about me," she told him. "They tried to kill me. They said I was a demon creation built to help the demons, said I would whether I wanted to or not." She screwed her eyes shut again. "What I just did was proof of that. I helped the demons."

Dean winced at the memory of the gun to his head. "I'd say that one's kinda on me, Jen."

She wasn't willing to shift the blame. "These hunters said I couldn't be allowed to live, that me drawing breath was putting all every innocent human life in danger."

Dean snorted. "You _**are**_ one of the innocent humans," he said confidently, masking his growing worry inside._ Crap, there were more hunters like Gordon Walker out there, more people who knew about these psychic kids – more people who were a threat to Sam. _ "Those hunters were wrong."

"I just reached into Hell and dragged a demon back here with me, Dean. That man in the room, Peter, he was so scared and now he's possessed by a demon that's probably going to kill him while it's in there." Her voice wavered at the end of her statement. "_**I **_did that to him and there's nothing innocent about that. There's no way I can do good with… this." She closed her eyes again and for a moment, Dean thought she was about to cry. "I'm a freak," she whispered. "You probably want to waste me yourself right now."

The hunter instinctively put his arm around her, pulling her into his chest in a comforting gesture. "You are _**not**_ a freak, you got that? And the only things I'm gonna waste are the demons who did this to you." She buried her face in his shirt and her shoulders started to quiver. He did what came naturally and rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "You didn't ask for this, Jenna," he continued, speaking onto the top of her head. "My brother, Sam, he's got abilities too; different than yours but it amounts to the same thing. But he's a good kid, all the way through. That much I do know. Got a huge heart and..." he allowed himself a chuckle. "...he's so frigging emo he makes me wanna gag sometimes. But whatever this psychic thing is all about, it isn't on him any more than it's on you. You're not evil and you're not going to turn evil and there's nothing evil inside you."

He pulled her gently away from him just enough that he could make eye contact. "You are not a freak. This isn't your fault. You hear me?"

He held her gaze until she finally nodded and he felt her relax against him. "Thanks Dean," she breathed into his chest.

A thought struck him as he held her close, pity for her sweeping through him . Was this how his brother felt? Did these same feelings and doubts haunt Sam every day? To this extent? Did Sam think he was a freak?

Of course he did. The kid had always tried so hard - _**too**_ hard - to be normal, spent his whole life longing for it before finally chasing it to Stanford. Maybe he had wanted it so badly because it was even more out of reach for him than it had ever been for Dean.

He wondered how he had just managed to openly and so convincingly reassure Jenna she wasn't the freak she thought she was but just couldn't seem to drive that point home to his own brother. Why was this so much easier with a complete stranger than with his own flesh and blood?

Hell, he realized guiltily, he even played into Sam's fears and misgivings by referring to his visions as 'weirdo visions' and 'creepy psychic thing'. He needed to be more supportive, less judgmental. But the truth was, Sam's psychic shit scared the Hell out of him and he couldn't help but worry Sam would do something or become something... Why couldn't he convince himself of what he had just convinced Jenna?

_If you can't save him, you may have to kill him._

That was why. Goddamn John Winchester.

Jenna laid her head back down on his shoulder and curled closer into him. Dean shifted enough to get comfortable and allowed himself to relax also, glad to no longer have the metal bar bruising his flesh. It was a narrow bed but it fit both of them if cuddling was involved. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He could live with that.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything before. I didn't... I didn't know what you'd do."

Dean frowned. "These hunters that came after you really did a number on you, huh?"

"They believed they were doing the right thing." She looked up at him, giving him a meek smile as she touched a finger lightly to his split lip. "And those demons really did a number on you, huh?"

He grinned, shrugging his injuries off. "They'll get what's coming to them. Now, how's about we pool our information? No more holding back, 'kay? You tell me your story and everything you know about demons and I'll tell you what Sam and I have dug up so far."

She let out a tired sigh, still curled into him but she started talking. Her first experience with the supernatural had been when she was about fourteen. A woman with black eyes had approached her after school. She had been waiting in the empty yard for her legal guardian, her brother, who was, as usual, late to pick her up. This woman had been babbling things like she wondered if all the talk was true and if Jenna was one of 'them' and if Jenna could help her find her lost love. Then Jason had shown up, yelling at the woman to back off and the demon had smoked out of the body she'd been in and tried to possess Jenna, who had somehow been able to force the demon out of her. The smoke had gone back into the body of the woman and she had fled.

It hadn't made any sense at the time but Jason had been determined to figure it out and within months, he'd quit his job and was hunting. Their parents had been doctors, their father quite a prominent surgeon in the State before his death, so she and Jason lived comfortably on their inheritance and the life insurance payout. He had met Quinn on a hunt a couple of years later and the two had hunted full time together while Jenna had been in college.

"You went to college?" Dean asked curiously. "Stanford?"

"No, UCLA. Until my brother was killed by demons and the dreams started. Since then I've been with Quinn, trying to get to the bottom of it all. Trying to figure out how to make it stop."

'It' had started out as just dreams - a scary place with lots of screaming that Jenna had just chalked up to being typical nightmares of a hunter. A week after the first one, however, her brother had died in a car accident. She hadn't suspected anything at first because he'd been known to be a speed demon behind the wheel, but Quinn had found sulfur at the scene and Jenna just knew it had something to do with her nightmares.

The dreams continued to get worse and worse, with bruises showing up where demons had grabbed her and then about a month ago, one had latched onto her and not let go. She had woken up to smoke streaming out of her mouth and hadn't really understood what had happened until Darksuit had explained that she could bring demons back from Hell.

But DarkSuit and Redhead didn't want her to bring just any demon. The ones she saw in her dreams were insignificant nobodies, wandering aimlessly around the upper levels of Hell. They wanted her to find specific demons of their choice, which she could apparently do if she had their full name, and bring them out to help in their war.

"War?"

"Yeah, from what they've said, I think these demons here are kind of like a secret band of underground rebels or something and then there's the bulk of the demons, who follow some other demon they tend to refer to as 'Asshole'."

"Do either Asshole or the boss of these demons have yellow eyes?"

"I don't know." She peered up at him curiously. "Okay, your turn. What's with the obsession with yellow eyes?"

"A demon with yellow eyes killed my mom in a fire when Sam was exactly six months old. Then it killed his girlfriend just over a year ago. Now these demons are after him too. That's a lot of similarities with you." He frowned. "We know what they want you for, but why do they want Sam so bad? He just has the occasional vision."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I swear. They've never said exactly."

They were both quiet for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. It was Jenna who broke the silence.

"Your mom was killed in a fire on Sam's six month birthday?"

"Yeah. And my dad was sure it was Yellow-Eyes. He said..."

"So that means both my brother _**and**_ my mom were killed because of me?"

Dean bit his lip. _Crap_. Jenna had so much in common with his little brother it was insane. He had never been able to convince Sam that their mom's and Jessica's deaths weren't his fault, despite arguing to the contrary on an almost constant basis. He looked down and gave Jenna what he hoped was a convincing stare. "No," he said firmly. "They were killed because of demons. That's all."

A renewed worry for Sam swept through him. He hadn't heard anything from the demons in the house so maybe that meant the trap they'd set for his brother had failed. Sam was smart, resourceful, and could think on his feet. Maybe he'd outsmarted them.

Dean hoped that was the case. Damnit, he needed to get out of here to get back to looking out for his little brother. He needed to warn Sam that some of the visions were fake, sent by the traitorous Reagan to lure him in. He hated the thought of Sam being alone out there with demons after him and no Dean to protect him. Six foot four or not, he was still Dean's little brother.

He peered down at Jenna, who was lost in thought, staring blankly into the room with a sad expression on her face. And he needed to get her out of here before they made her pull more demons out of Hell.

"Hey," he said, nudging her with his elbow to get her attention. "I got a surprise for you in the bathroom."

She giggled. "Really? Can't you just flush like a normal guy?"

The hunter laughed as he sat up, pleased to see her smiling. "Toilet humor, huh? Wow. That is so sexy."

She blushed, still giggling. "Guess I've been spending too much time with Quinn."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N: **Okay, so I beat up Dean last chapter and figured it was Sammy's turn. Hope you didn't mind :)_


	7. Steve McQueen or Professor X?

_**Previously: **__Sam and Quinn check out TM Motors where the fake vision showed Dean being killed but it's a trap and Sam gets dragged into a van. Quinn runs the van off the road to save him – they get away but Sam is hurt. Meanwhile Jenna is sleeping off the effort it took to bring the demon from hell. When she wakes up, Dean convinces her she's not a freak and wishes he could be so convincing with his little brother._

**CHAPTER 7 – STEVE McQUEEN OR PROFESSOR X?**

Sam woke up to the feel of a hand pressing against his forehead, the squawking sound of a police scanner somewhere in the background. He jerked in reflex but the motion caused him to groan in pain and he quickly discovered he was sore all over.

He opened his eyes to find Quinn standing next to the bed, leaning over him. "Well about time, sleepyhead," she greeted him with a smile.

He groaned again and rolled his head sideways towards the red numbers on the motel alarm clock. 2:08AM. He gasped in disbelief.

Quinn followed his gaze and clucked at him. "Yeah, you've been out a long time," she said reproachfully before straightening up and reaching for a box on the bedside table. She laid it on the bed next to him. "Pizza. Sorry it's cold but you have _got_ to be needing some food."

Sam nodded, unable to deny how incredibly hungry he was. He pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard, wincing at the pain from the cut in his side and his generally battered body. The memories of everything that had happened came rushing back to him – the trap at the garage, not finding Dean, getting grabbed, the van crashing, Quinn shooting demons in the eyes, him moving the van door with just a thought...

"You mind?" she asked, bringing his attention back to his bruised muscles and his growling stomach. She was pointing at his side where a white bandage was peeking out from the unbuttoned, bloody shirt he was still wearing. "I should check on it."

"Oh, uh, no, I guess not," Sam stammered, grabbing a slice and taking a huge bite, trying his hardest not to moan in pleasure like Dean did when a burger hit just the right spot. He scooted a bit further up onto the pillow and pushed the blanket down to allow her better access to his side, his hunger outweighing his need to investigate the wound himself. "How bad is it?"

She leaned over him to peel off the corners of the tape and lift the bandage. "Probably not as bad as it feels," she murmured, her fingers prodding at him gently. "There's one hell of a bruise around it and you lost a boatload of blood but good news - just six stitches." She looked up at him and grinned. "I did a spectacular job on them if I may say so myself."

Sam just nodded his appreciation, his mouth full. She proceeded to clean the cut, her touch much gentler than Dean's, which surprised Sam a little considering the pair shared the same sarcastic bedside manner. Sam let her work and ate in silence, finishing his first piece of pizza and moving ravenously on to his second.

"I can't believe you ran that van off the road," he said finally, shaking his head in amusement. "You're kinda crazy you know that?"

Quinn just snorted, applying a fresh bandage over his cut, her hands smoothing the edges of the tape and running softly across the lines of his left side. His overwhelming hunger appeased for the time being, it occurred to Sam he hadn't had a woman touching him this much in a long time - since Jessica. He suddenly became intensely aware of Quinn's proximity, her breath on his chest and her fingers pressing along the defined lines of his obliques.

"Never leave a man behind, huh?" he joked.

She laughed, finishing her ministrations and straightening up. "What I should've done was let them take you and just follow the van."

"Why didn't you?" That option hadn't occurred to Sam.

She sighed. "I've been told I don't tend to think things through. I just saw them throw you into that van and I... reacted." She got up and headed over to his duffel, pulling out a clean shirt and tossing it over to him before sitting down on the edge of the other bed.

"That's probably for the better," Sam thought out loud. "Chances are they would have spotted you tailing them anyway. I mean, your car is even less inconspicuous than mine." He gingerly pulled his arms out of the bloody shirt he had on and replaced it with the clean one.

The police scanner had been on since he had woken up and Sam saw Quinn frown again, as she had done every time the 'double homicide' on Cotweiller Avenue was mentioned.

"They know anything?" he queried.

"Nah. It was a quiet street. No witnesses. No mentions of us or my car." She pursed her lips. "They're pretty freaked out about the shooting-out-the-eyes thing, though."

Sam remembered Quinn's reaction to killing the two demon meatsuits before he had passed out and thought he detected a quiver in her voice as she spoke. "How are you feeling?" he asked with genuine concern.

"Me?" she scoffed, getting up and switching off the scanner. "I'm not the one who looks like the beat-up apple at the bottom of the barrel."

Sam didn't bother pressing the issue, knowing already he wouldn't get anything out of her. The more he thought about it, the more he believed he finally understood why his brother set that line between black and white so firmly in his hunter brain, blindly distinguishing right versus wrong. Not questioning the ethics of things in the shady grey world of hunting had probably saved Dean a thousand sleepless nights.

Instead he swung his legs off the side of the bed. "We need to figure out our next move."

"I know," Quinn agreed. "While you were catching up on your beauty sleep, I broke into the offices of the company that owns the van."

"You _what_? Alone?"

She gave him another roll of the eyes. "Yes, _Dad_. You were about a gallon of blood short and Jenna and Dean have been missing for over a day and a half – I couldn't wait. I got nothing anyway," she dismissed, sitting back down across from him. "So I looked more into the numbered company and TM Motors, digging up what I could online. Couldn't find squat but then your friend Ash called. I answered your phone, hope you don't mind - your buddy's a weird guy, by the way. Anyway, he'd been digging too and managed to tie both companies back to some of the same money trails and Cayman accounts. They're definitely both fronts for the same people – or demons, more likely."

"Shady demon businessmen?" Sam raised a dubious eyebrow.

"You did say they tried to blend in," she shrugged.

The wounded hunter let out a frustrated sigh. "That doesn't get us any closer to finding Dean and Jenna," he groused.

"Your pal Ash is looking into properties owned by or linked to the companies. Places they could have them stashed. Did you know Ash's IQ is over two hundred? Maybe he'll come up with something. He went to MIT."

"Yeah, I'm aware." Sam chuckled as he pushed himself up onto his feet. "I can set you two up on a date if you want."

Quinn leaned back on her hands and looked up at him as he took a moment to steady his feet under him. "Nah," she grinned. "Nerds and me don't get along."

Flashes of the thousand times Dean had called him a nerd in the past year struck Sam and he swallowed.

"See, nerds think too much," Quinn elaborated. "I tend to '_do_' not '_think_', remember?"

"Wow. You and my brother would get along _so_ well."

"So you've said." She arched a brow at him. "Are you implying me and you don't, Winchester?"

"Uh no, of course not, I was..." Sam gave up his flustered denial when the look on her face made it clear she was teasing him.

Her expression quickly turned serious. "I will tell you one thing," she told him. "I hope Dean's doing a better job looking out for Jenna than I am with his little brother."

He frowned. "You just stopped me from getting nabbed by demons," he reminded her.

"Thanks for not pointing out that I almost killed you in the process." She pointed to his left side. "Don't even try to tell me that didn't happen in the crash."

Sam laid a hand gingerly over the cut and snorted. "This? This is no big deal. I've had a lot worse, trust me. Besides," he frowned, "it's not your job to look out for me. I mean, I've been hunting since I was twelve, researching even before that."

"Hmph, well that explains a lot."

"What does that mean?" he huffed defensively.

"It means you're good, Winchester. A good hunter. Don't get you panties in a twist; I'm trying to give you a compliment."

"Oh. Thanks, I guess." He turned towards the bathroom. "You are too," he added, giving her a quick smile before walking away.

"You going for a shower? Don't get that bandage wet." He could practically hear the grin plastered on her face through her next words. "And be sure to let me know if you need any help scrubbing anything."

Sam didn't bother turning back around, well aware his cheeks were turning pink. _Geez, what was he – twelve?_ "I'll manage," he managed to answer evenly, not sure if she was still teasing or genuinely flirting. "See you in ten."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean was quietly scraping away at the grout around the last brick he would need to remove to fit his wide shoulders through the hole between the bathroom and the hallway, Jenna catching the loose mortar and disposing of it down the drain, the toilet or into the narrow gap under the baseboard.

"So, does it hurt?" he asked her candidly, glad she had finally dropped her defensive walls after his convincing acceptance of her 'abilities'. "When you go to Hell to get these demons?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't say it hurts, exactly. It just takes everything out of me. I concentrate on the name to look for them but if they're deep, it's harder to find them and it's...exhausting. Draining, I guess. Hard to explain."

"How 'bout bringing them back?" he pressed, his curiosity getting the better of him. Sam was so reluctant to spill when it came to specifics of his psychic thing. Not surprisingly, he supposed, since Dean wasn't exactly the poster boy for understanding and emotional support.

She groaned. "That's a lot worse. It feels like I'm being swept up in a tornado. Like my insides are spinning around in there and I can't get a breath or concentrate on finding my way back. It's scary as hell." She chuckled. "Literally, I guess."

"What's it like when you're possessed, once you do get back?" he asked. "Is the demon in control?"

Jenna shook her head. "No, I can feel it inside but somehow I can just push them out. That one earlier was trying to get control but I just didn't let him."

"So you can't be possessed at all?" _Too bad Sam didn't have that ability._ Would have saved Dean from being shot in the shoulder by a Meg-possessed-brother.

"Nope," she smiled up at him as she scooped a handful of grout away. "One benefit of being a frea... " She cut herself off at Dean's disapproving glance. "Sorry, of being...unique."

He grinned back at her as he wrapped his fingers around the last brick to pull it out. "That's better."

"You've never been possessed, have you?" she asked him.

"Nope, knock on wood. Of course, they took my anti-possession charm when they stole my jacket so if they make you bring any more guests to the party, I may end up with a bunkmate in here."

Truth be told, Dean was surprised the demons hadn't used him as a meatsuit the first time around. That would by far be the easiest way to bait Sam.

"Actually, they mentioned that when they had me out there. They won't possess you. They don't want to piss off some guy called Michael."

Dean frowned at her in confusion. "Michael? I don't know any Michael. He some high-up demon?"

Jenna shrugged, backing out of the way so Dean could step out of the shower stall. "They didn't say."

There was a soft thumping sound and both of them froze to listen. Dean immediately identified it as footsteps coming down the hallway and pushed the brick back into the wall, quickly draping the towel from the showerhead to cover their planned escape route. He and Jenna had just made it back into the bedroom when their door bolt slid open and Lefty and Darksuit appeared, looking sullen and pissed off as usual.

Darksuit beckoned Jenna to come forward and Dean cursed under his breath. They just needed five more damn minutes! Jenna seemed to have found some strength and self-confidence after hearing Dean's reassuring words that she was not to blame for the nature of her abilities because she folded her arms across her chest and told the demons flatly to "Go to Hell."

Of course it didn't work because Lefty simply rolled his eyes and drew his pistol, pointing it at Dean's head.

"You shoot me and you lose your leverage," Dean spat, glancing at Jenna. "They won't do it," he assured her, his voice portraying a confidence he didn't feel at calling the demon's bluff.

Darksuit laughed. "You really think so? We shoot you and she knows we're serious. Then we go out to the closest mall and nab some innocent passerby." He smirked at the blonde girl. "You gonna refuse us then?" he challenged. "We can plug 'em one after the other until you have more deaths on your head than Hitler."

"You wouldn't!" she cried in horror.

"We're demons, dear," Darksuit pointed out. "Now stop this futile charade. We both know you're going to cooperate one way or another. Come. We have another friend downstairs for you to visit."

Jenna sighed but stepped forward, shaking her head at Dean when he moved to stop her. '_Get out_' she mouthed at him, glancing towards the bathroom to make her point.

Dean gritted his teeth. He was ready to go now but if they brought Jenna back unconscious, he would have to wait another half-day or so for her to wake up again. She was telling him to make his escape while she was gone but that went against everything he stood for. He couldn't just to leave her here.

"I'll be right here when you get back," he told her, shaking his head before adding, "I'm sorry."

She huffed at him but was yanked out the door by Lefty before she could argue further. The door slammed shut and Dean kicked the wall in his frustration as the footsteps faded down the long hall.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Sam was feeling much better after his shower. He came out of the bathroom and sat down at the table to boot-up his laptop, not content to sit around and wait for Ash to call with a lead. He had found the small canvas pouch Quinn had given him in his jeans pocket and asked her about it now.

"So what's this for?"

"It's a hex bag," she explained. "It helps to hide you from demons and anything else that can search for you through supernatural avenues."

Sam was peering in the top of the bag, his nose wrinkled at the foul smell that hit him as soon as he untied it. "What's in it?"

"I don't know. A witch made them up for us - Jason, Jenna and me -a few years back. I'm hoping they don't have an expiry date." Her expression grew sad. "That was Jason's one," she told him. "So don't lose it because I don't have any spares."

Sam was thinking how advantageous it could be for him and Dean to have one of these things each, especially these days. "How'd they find Jenna then?" he asked curiously, tying the pouch back up. "I take it she had hers on her in the diner?"

Quinn nodded. "She always has it on her. She's had trouble with demons since she was fourteen. I'm guessing this Yellow-Eyes you keep harping on about has a direct line on all of you that can bypass the hex bag."

"All of us? You mean his psychic kids? What makes you say that?"

Her sad look morphed into one of confusion. "Well, aren't you thinking he gives you these visions?" she demanded. "Seems likely he's the one sending them to you. He told you he has plans for you right? And all the children like you? Well, his plans would be screwed if you were all dead. Maybe he sent you visions because he wanted you to save the kid with the asshole dad and the guy who controls minds."

"Max and Andy," Sam supplied absently, wondering if that could be the truth. Ava had received a vision that enabled her to save him from Gordon walker.

"Yeah. And maybe he wanted you to save Jenna from the runaway bike so he sent you one of her, too."

Sam was doubtful about that last one. "It could be," he admitted, "But I can't help but think there's more to it than that. The vision with Jenna felt different than the other ones. It was worse and then things didn't go down like the vision at all. The others only changed if I interfered. Same with the one about Dean - it was all wrong from the getgo. I think those two were different...manipulated..." He struggled to find the right word. "Intentional?"

"You mean they were traps set for you."

The younger hunter nodded with a sigh. "That's what I think."

There was a brief silence, both of them lost in deep thought.

It was Quinn who spoke next. "So..." she led a bit hesitantly. "Your visions come with a bit of telekinesis, huh? You forgot to mention that before."

Sam sighed, knowing the question about how he had moved that van door had to be coming at some point. "Honestly, I didn't know," he told her. "It happened once before, just once, and I don't even know how I did it. I still don't. It just sort of... happened."

"Could you do it again?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it. Not deliberately, anyway. It seems to be a bit of a desperate impulse thing."

"So no spoon-bending at the county fair?"

"Not so far."

She nodded, actually looking a bit disappointed in his answer. "What do we do now?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised she was asking instead of barking out an order. He didn't want to wait for a lead from Ash that may not ever come. Dean had been in the clutches of demons who despised him for far too long. If the Winchester name alone hadn't convinced them to kill him already, Sam was sure Dean's smart mouth would goad them into it soon enough.

"We have something they want," he said simply. "Me. Time for us to set our own trap."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean paced back and forth in the small confines of the room that had been his home for the better part of two days. Should he wait until they brought Jenna back and then wait another day for her to recover from her ordeal enough to escape with him? It was a matter of time before the demons came into the room at some point and noticed the giant hole in the shower wall. Every hour he put off his escape, the risk of being found out grew.

But if he escaped right now, he would have to rescue Jenna from a room with four or five demons in it, at least one of them armed. And if she had already started doing her hell-transport thing, then she could already be too weak to run with him.

He kept coming back to the same conclusion. He had to wait. His nerves were doing a number on him with the decision, however, because he knew that for every hour he held off for Jenna's sake, he was leaving Sam out there alone and in danger. Hunted. Unprotected. His instincts had always steered him to help the innocent but the one basic instinct at the very core of who he was screamed at him to protect Sam above all others.

Dean knew that if something bad happened to Jenna, it would upset him, but something bad happening to Sam would completely destroy him.

But still he couldn't leave. Jenna trusted him and he had assured her he would be here waiting for her upon her return. In a weird way, abandoning her would be like abandoning Sam. The younger pair had so much in common, both thrown unwittingly and unwillingly into this demon scheme and both being ostracised by their own kind because of it. Her big brother had been a hunter and he wasn't around anymore to look out for her so somehow that responsibility fell on Dean. He also couldn't deny that Sam would want him to save Jenna first.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. He would wait.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Sam drove the Impala through the quiet night streets of Burbank, easily ignoring the continuous stream of griping from the seat next to him. Tuning out vocal displeasure was a skill he had developed in childhood, starting when Dean had hit his early teens. Now it was Quinn, complaining about the state of her car and how much she didn't like this plan.

Okay, Sam had to agree, her car was a mess. Sideswiping the much larger van had badly dented one entire side of the expensive sports car and he didn't envy the body-shop bill she was going to run up getting it fixed. He had offered to pay for it, having no idea how he would come up with that kind of money, and had earned himself a slap for the gesture. She had turned him down, griping that the money wasn't the point. He had to admit, he had enjoyed his brief turn behind the wheel of a car that wasn't older than he was and had been guiltily thinking how nice it would be to have a newer model car instead of a forty-year old classic with no power-anything. Even the cars the Winchesters stole on occasion were older models, selected intentionally to ensure they weren't equipped with GPS or alarms. Sam knew Dean loved this car but sometimes... How about one of those new Challengers or Camaros? They were still bad-ass, weren't they? He shook the thoughts from his head, feeling suddenly like he was betraying both Dean and the only real home he'd ever known by the mere notion of changing rides.

As for their plan, Quinn had argued adamantly against it for half an hour before eventually conceding after he pointed out it was Jenna's last chance. He assured her he was willing to take the risk to himself if it meant saving Dean and Jenna and that it wasn't Quinn's place to keep him safe, that Jenna was her only responsibility.

Things went according to plan, more or less. They went back to the office building during the night and broke back in to set traps, such as salt lines and hidden Devil's Traps. Come morning, they showed up one more time as federal agents, harassing the lone receptionist until she reported it to someone higher up the chain of command. Eventually, word must have made its way to a demon somewhere up the line for three of them showed up, not wasting any time in lunging for the hunters in the front room. Their attempts to bring Sam in, however, were thwarted by the numerous traps and within minutes, two were exorcised and one was tied to a chair under a large Devil's Trap painted on the topside of the ceiling tiles, scowling at the two hunters while the receptionist sobbed and whimpered in the back room they had locked her in.

That's when things got difficult. The demon wasn't talking. Instead it spent the better part of an hour laughing and taunting them between shouts of pain as they splashed it with holy water and poured salt into its mouth.

Quinn had just finished forcing an entire flask of holy water down its throat when it finally caved. "Bitch!" it sputtered, tears streaming down its face and its eyes black as coal. "Alright! No More! I'll tell you. I'll tell you but you won't like it."

"Where are Dean and Jenna?" Sam demanded coolly for the hundredth time, trying to hold onto his patience because it was obvious Quinn had already run out of hers.

"Your brother's being held as bait," the demon panted. "They'll trade him for you if you turn yourself in."

"Not gonna happen," Quinn snapped, punching the demon in the face in her mounting anger.

Sam wasn't so sure but he didn't let on that he would be willing to consider that option - not yet. "Where?"

The demon grunted. "Montecito."

Quinn made a show of refilling her flask in front of the demon. "Montecito's a big place," she said slowly. "You're gonna have to narrow it down a little."

"I don't know exactly," he spat back. "Some big house."

"They're all big houses over there!" Quinn fired back. "Half of the big money in California has a summer home there. I want an address!"

The demon started laughing again. "What are you getting so worked up about anyway?" he taunted her. "Dean's there but you're too late for the other one, the girl. She's dead."

Sam saw Quinn's face pale but she pulled herself together quickly and threw another punch, her knuckles swollen and bruised by this point. "You lie," she seethed.

Their captive straightened up in his chair, clearly enjoying himself now that he had hit a nerve. "What reason would I have to lie about that?" he goaded. "I already told you where the Winchester nuisance was. See, my boss still wants Sammy here so, big brother Dean will keep breathing. Blondie, on the other hand, already outlived her usefulness."

"You wanted her too," Quinn argued, her composure clearly starting to fray. "You were after her too."

The demon grinned viciously. "Well, don't get me wrong," he snickered. "We all had our fun with her before we snapped her neck."

Sam decided this interview wasn't going to get any better for his partner now that the demon had found a button to push and immediately started reciting a Latin exorcism. The demon began sputtering and choking and as soon as the black smoke dissipated into the ceiling, Sam turned to face Quinn. "He was lying," he assured her quickly.

She swallowed and gave him a quick nod before taking a step forward and pressing her fingers against the neck of the man sitting slumped in the chair. "He's alive," she said, her voice raspy. "We'll call 9-1-1 as soon as we hit the road."

They were packed and gone in thirty seconds but the car was tensely quiet as Sam weaved through the busy streets. He kept glancing worriedly over at Quinn. He could only imagine how he would feel if the demon had said Dean was dead instead of Jenna. "She's one of the psychic kids," he said finally. "I'm sure she's still alive. Demons lie."

He just got a stiff nod in response and she pointed to the Ventura Freeway West sign that led to Montecito.

"You still with me?" he pressed, concerned. Usually she wasn't this quiet.

"Course," she answered finally, straightening in her seat. "And if... if it turns out Jenna's gone don't worry, I'll still help you find Dean."

"Quinn..."

"I know," she cut him off. "Demon's lie." She leaned over and pulled Sam's phone from his pocket. "I'm gonna call your nerd-pal and see if he can find any link to Montecito. We need a more specific address."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Jenna was brought back less than twenty minutes later and much to Dean's surprise, she was still awake. Weak and exhausted, but still on her feet. As soon as Keanu and Redhead shoved her through the doorway, Dean was at her side, guiding her over to the cot.

She sank down onto it but just shook her head and averted her eyes when Dean asked what happened, leading him to assume she had been forced to bring another demon out of Hell. He remembered Darksuit saying that it would get easier for Jenna every time, but was unnerved at how much better she had handled this one; it was only the second. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, he made her eat some of the leftover fried chicken from supper so she could get her strength back and they could head out before dawn.

An hour later she insisted she was ready to get going. Dean didn't argue because things were quiet in the house and it would still be dark outside. She pulled her leather jacket back on and he shimmied the loose bricks out of the hole before using the sharpened edge of his spoon to cut through the drywall into the hallway. It was dimly lit and empty, with no signs of demons. Dean and Jenna dragged themselves through the hole with as little grunting as possible and finally found themselves free on the other side.

Jenna immediately pressed her ear to the door across the hall from theirs, eliciting an urgent hiss from Dean.

"Let's move," he whispered, gripping her by the elbow and starting up the hallway.

"Wait, Dean," she gasped, giving him an incredulous look. "There's gotta be others. We can't just leave them here."

He shook his head. "That could be Reagan in there!" he reminded her in a hushed voice. "She's working with them. She'll turn us in for sure."

"But it could be someone else," she insisted, reaching for the dead bolt latch but pausing to look at him before sliding it. "Please. There are four rooms. They could be innocent. They're just like me. Like Sam."

She had him at 'innocent' but the 'Sam' remark had Dean nodding his whole-hearted approval. If it was Reagan, he'd have no problem throwing a punch to keep her quiet. He held his breath while Jenna slid the bolt loose and swung the door open.

The room was dark but the light from the hallway fell on the shape of a person under the blanket in the single cot along the far wall. The form rolled over and a face appeared, blinking at them in confusion.

The person sat up, swinging their feet off the side of the cot and Dean could see it was a boy, a teenager, maybe seventeen or eighteen. He looked scared. "Wha…?"

"Shhh," Dean said, pressing his finger to his lips as he stepped into the room. "We're not demons," he said quietly, raising a hand in a gesture of innocence. "We're escaping. You comin?"

The boy nodded and jumped up, scrambling for his sneakers. "Yeah, yeah," he whispered excitedly. "Of course. I'm in, I'm in."

"Okay," Dean nodded. "Listen up. There's one rule. You do exactly what I say. Got it?"

The boy nodded hastily. "I'm Tyler," he said with a wide, toothy grin.

Dean couldn't help but smile back at him. "Dean."

"I'm Jenna," the blonde added, resting a hand on the kid's shoulder in friendly greeting and beaming back at Dean.

Dean just rolled his eyes and moved back out into the hallway. "Let's see what's behind door number three," he mumbled.

The next room was fully lit and the pretty brunette Reagan was sitting on her bed reading. She gasped and jumped up when she saw Dean at the door but he reacted quickly, shoving her up against the wall with his hand clamped over her mouth.

"You traitorous bitch," he growled at her. "You sold out my brother."

She looked terrified, her eyes wide and wild as she stared at the angry hunter who had her pinned.

"Where's Sam?" he demanded. "Did they get him?"

She shook her head and mumbled something into his hand.

Dean curled a lip but began to slowly relieve the pressure of his hand. "Don't you make a fucking sound," he warned.

"No! Don't!" Tyler hissed, pushing Dean's hand back over Reagan's mouth. "She plans on screaming."

"What? How do you know?" the hunter demanded.

"I can read minds," the kid answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

Dean stared at him for a second as the information sank in but quickly turned back to Reagan. "Does she know if my brother's okay?" he asked, speaking to Tyler.

Tyler reached back up to touch Reagan's arm again. "I have to touch the person to read them," he explained to Dean. "Umm, no, she doesn't know about your brother. She knows he escaped the trap from the fake vision. She's scared you're going to kill her."

Dean gritted his teeth. "Trust me, I'm tempted."

"Dean," Jenna said from behind him, placing a hand on his bicep. "We can't."

"I know," he assured her. "But she can't come with us."

"No," Tyler chimed in. "She doesn't want to leave. She wants to get stronger, with her talent, and the demons promised her they would show her how. And whoa! Ewww. Dude, she's sleeping with the one called Cole."

Dean felt his skin crawl. "Cole?"

"The one in the suit," Tyler supplied.

Dean glanced around the room. There was a dresser, a television, a mirror and make-up, and the brunette in his grasp had iPod buds hanging around her neck. Fucking bitch was shacking up with demons. He pulled her head forward and cracked it back against the wall, letting her go as she slumped down to the floor.

Tyler gasped and Dean ushered him and Jenna out of the room. "Don't worry," he assured them. "Trick of the trade. She'll wake up with a headache, that's all." He looked down at Tyler as they headed across the hall to the last of the metal doors. "Kid, word to the wise. You stay outta my head, you hear?"

Tyler grinned back up at him. "Yes, sir."

Dean pulled the dead bolt free with nothing more than a slight click and swung the door open. Like Tyler's, the room was dark. Dean could make out a form in the bed, presumably sleeping and stepped quickly up to it, leaning down and tapping a shoulder gently.

He could make out long hair and his guess that it was a girl was proven right when she turned around to face him, jerking in fright. He was startled, however, by a sharp cry from the bottom of the bed. A second girl, who had been lying upside down shot up, staring wild-eyed at him.

"Shhhh," Dean hushed quickly, putting his finger to his lips. "We're not demons," he told them, hoping for the same quick acceptance he had received from Tyler. He suddenly had a strong urge to say '_I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you_' but curbed the words before they slipped out. Instead he cursed teenage Sam's Star Wars obsession and went with "We'll get you out of here but you have to be quiet."

Jenna had pushed the door almost closed at the sound of the girl's cry and now she flicked the wall lamp on. "I'm one of you," she said quietly. "We're all getting out of here. Quick, get dressed."

The girl at the top of the bed was sitting up hugging her knees, blinking in the light as she stared in turn at Dean, Jenna, and Tyler. The one at the bottom, however, was already on her feet, grabbing for a pair of jeans folded on the floor.

"What are your names?" Jenna whispered.

The one standing answered. "I'm Caitlyn and this is Chelsea."

Dean turned to Chelsea, the one on the bed. "You coming?"

She shook her head.

Dean was shocked. "What? You can't stay here!" he exclaimed, his voice a harsh whisper. He reached forward to urge her up. "Come on. I can get you out of here. You can trust us."

She shook her head again and backed away from him. "No," she whimpered. "No, I'm staying here."

"Chelsea, don't be stupid," Caitlyn scolded. "You can't stay here. They're fucking demons."

"I'm staying," she said. "They're not so bad. They don't hit… Every time I run away, I end up somewhere worse. I'm staying here."

Dean let Caitlyn try to argue with the girl but she made no progress and they were running out of time. Reagan would be waking up soon and a demon could show up at any moment.

"We have to go," he said finally, exasperated. How did his quiet getaway with Jenna suddenly turn into The Great Escape? "Chelsea, I promise you, I'll get you outta here safely, okay?" he said, giving it one last ditch effort. "I won't let anything happen to you. Any of you. Please, just get your shoes on."

"No. I'm staying. I won't tell, but I'm staying here."

Dean stood up. He felt bad but she was clearly terrified and forcing her to come with them would only put them all in danger. "Alright, we have to go," he said to the others. Jenna nodded but Chelsea looked torn. "I'll come back for her when I have some help," he appeased.

Jenna turned the light back off and pulled the door open again. Dean stuck his head out and peered down the hallway. Things were still quiet. "Okay," he beckoned to the three behind him. "Let's get the Hell out of here."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N: **__Anyone remember Chelsea from the first chapter? Yup, that's her. Things get a little crazy for the gang next chap, with Sam and Quinn on their way and Dean and company on their way out... Sorry this chap didn't have much action, I plan on making up for it in the next chap._


	8. Into the Wild

**A/N: **Hope everyone had a good Christmas! :) No Jensen under my tree (that damn Santa just never listens!) but I had a great day anyway. I have to say a big thank-you to everyone who's still reading this, and all of you who have out it on your faves or alerts. Also, thanks to Miss E Charlotte for Quinn's name, which I totally stole from her story Hard to Love You (with permission, of course).

_**Previously**__: Sam and Quinn set a trap for demons and get one to tell them that Dean is being held in a house in Montecito but the demon tells Quinn that Jenna is dead. Meanwhile, Dean and Jenna finish the hole out of their room and escape into the house. They open the other 3 rooms with steel doors and find other psychic kids. Teenage Tyler in one, who can read minds, Reagan the traitor who gave Sam the fake vision, who Dean knocks out and they leave there. Then there's Chelsea and Caitlyn but Chelsea is too scared to leave the room and they have to leave her._

**CHAPTER 8 – INTO THE WILD**

Dean threw one last, regretful glance back at the terrified girl hugging her knees on the bed and stepped back out into the hallway, followed closely by Jenna, Tyler, and Caitlyn. He had debated slugging Chelsea and carrying her out but had a feeling they weren't going to get out of here without having to run at some point. It wasn't just his freedom at stake here; he now had three others to get to safety. He would come back with Sam to get her - Bobby too if his old friend could get down to California quickly enough.

As they made their way towards the living room at the end of the hall, Jenna turned to Tyler. "There aren't any more of us, right?" she whispered, pointing to the regular wooden doors they were passing.

Tyler shook his head. "Nah, I think the demons use those."

Jenna stifled a chortled sound and the escapees fell completely silent as they moved on hurriedly. Dean halted them with a hand signal once they hit the big room, motioning for them to stay still. He grabbed a small stone carving from the mantle and hastily scraped a large devil's trap into the hardwood floor at the end of the hallway, trying to keep the noise to a minimum.

"That oughta hold them if there's any in there," he whispered, beckoning them to follow him up the stairs. They headed up and then along the long hallway Dean remembered led to the foyer and the back door. The house was dark and quiet and there were no demons in sight.

Dean was just about to pull the back door open when it moved in his grip, swinging towards him to reveal Righty and two other demons on their way in. The hunter jumped a few steps backwards in alarm, his arm extending out to keep the other three behind him. There was no time to get out of the way, no time to hide.

"Shit," he cursed when he saw the eyes of the demons widen and flash black, their stances stiffening as they reacted to the sight of four escapees in the foyer.

"Come on!" Dean barked, grabbing the closest arm behind him and yanking it towards one of the other doors that led into the main house. Back the way they came was a dead end so he preferred their chances through one of the unknown doors.

It was Jenna's arm he had his fingers wrapped around and as he tugged her through the doorway after him, he turned to see her other hand wrapped in Tyler's sleeve and Caitlyn close behind. Dean waited until Caitlyn was barely over the threshold before slamming the door shut and twisting the lock on the knob. He grabbed the carving from his pocket and scraped a devil's trap into the beveled mahogany as he waved a hand behind him. "Keep going! Go!" he urged.

Despite the pounding of the demons on the other side, the solid door held until he finished the symbol. He turned and raced after the others, through the utility room he was in and into a huge kitchen. He glanced to see Jenna ahead of him, pulling a couple of knives out of a knife block. She tossed him the larger of the two, handle spinning neatly in the air into his extended hand. Dean allowed a smirk at the skillful throw, remembering that the blonde was indeed a hunter, a fact he had forgotten. A second person with some fighting skills would surely come in handy getting away from the demons on their tail.

He slammed the door shut behind him, again using the carving to etch a hasty devil's trap into the door. He turned to see Jenna leading the other two towards the back of the large kitchen and raced after them. There had to be a back door in a kitchen.

There was, but it was steel and locked with an intimidating, large steel latch that needed a key, even from the inside.

"It's bolted shut!" Jenna griped, giving the door a hard kick that didn't even cause a decent tremor.

Dean gave the lock a quick inspection himself and his stomach turned. That was going to be hard to get out of. He debated leading them all back through the kitchen and out another door but the sound of the demons thumping on the door they had entered quickly quashed that idea. He turned to Jenna, about to ask her if she knew how to draw a devil's trap but she was already moving.

"I got the other door," she told him, dashing back into the main part of the kitchen towards the second door that led into the main house. It would be a matter of seconds before the demons ran around to come in that way.

He nodded and turned to Caitlyn and Tyler. "See if you can find some salt," he ordered, his eyes already scanning for something heavy he could use to try and break through the back door lock. Tyler was just a kid and the scared look on his face was eating at Dean's protective instincts. Caitlyn couldn't be much older, maybe twenty, and she looked pretty terrified also. He had promised to keep them safe.

The kitchen was commercial size, with plenty of large equipment but not much in the way of steel mallets or pick-axes. He settled on some kind of slicing machine that had a large handle and swung it at the lock.

Not even a dent. He kept going, not even turning around as he asked for an update from the other hunter in his group. "Jenna?"

He heard her cry out and glanced back to see her jumping back from the door she had been carving with her newly-acquired knife. The door was shaking now and angry shouts and banging coming from behind it also. "It's okay," she called back. "I got it finished."

Dean let out a quick breath of relief before swinging at the back door lock again. Fucking thing wasn't budging! He began to try and jam the thin edge of the slicer's handle down behind the bolt, thinking maybe he could lever it open but suddenly there were voices outside.

He dropped the slicer and speedily carved another devil's trap into the steel paint with the tip of the knife Jenna had given him. Within seconds, this door too was rattling.

Shit. They were penned in. There were only three doors and there were demons behind all three. He looked around to see the same realization hitting the other three escapees.

"At least we're in the kitchen," Jenna shrugged, trying to look optimistic. "We've got food. We can hold out until Quinn gets here." She looked over at Dean with a half-hearted smile. "Or Sam, whoever finds us first, but I bet you twenty it'll be Quinn."

Dean appreciated her efforts for the younger two who looked terrified, but couldn't bring himself to smile. He rubbed a hand down across his face and looked around again, not ready to give up on devising a way out of this.

"Who are Quinn and Sam?" Caitlyn asked.

Jenna bit her lip, clearly not wanting to get the girl's hopes up. "People who are looking for Dean and me," she supplied hesitantly.

"Will they be here soon?"

"Uhh, probably not," Jenna admitted. "I doubt they know where we are."

"Keep looking for salt," Dean interjected, moving back into the main part of the kitchen with the rest. A demon couldn't open or pass through a door with a devil's trap on it but it was a matter of time before they thought to use Reagan or Chelsea. He didn't want to have to hurt a human to keep the wards intact but he wasn't going back to that room. Salt might help if they had to retreat.

Caitlyn turned to Tyler and grabbed his hand. "Draw a devil's trap," she said slowly, looking right into his eyes waiting for him to nod before she turned and grabbed Jenna. Before Dean could even register her strange actions, she and Jenna disappeared.

Fucking _disappeared_ - into thin air.

"What the hell?!" he cried, racing to the spot the girls had been standing. "Jenna!" He looked around wildly. "Jenna!"

"Dean, wait!" Tyler called to him, waving his arm in the air trying to get the hunter's attention. "It's alright!" He waited until Dean's eyes locked on his before saying much more quietly. "They're fine. We need to draw a devil's trap on the floor."

"What for? Where'd they go?"

"Caitlyn can zap herself into devil's traps," Tyler explained in a hushed voice. "She told me she was going to take us back down to the one you drew in the basement, at the end of the hallway."

"Say what?" Dean said, trying to figure out what was going on. It took a moment for the explanation to sink in. Devil's trap wormholes? _What the hell?_

"I read minds, remember?" Tyler explained patiently. "She told me when she touched my hand. She took Jenna back downstairs so they can sneak out behind the demons, who think we're all still in here."

Okay, it was starting to make sense. Ten shades of crazy, but crazy was par for the course these days. Dean nodded slowly. "So if we keep the demon's attention, Jenna and Caitlyn can escape?" He could accept being recaptured if Jenna got free. She would call Sam and warn him.

Tyler shook his head. "Us too, dude. If we draw a devil's trap in here, she can come back to get us too. But she can only go into a trap drawn on the floor."

Dean's spirits lifted slightly. He hadn't particularly wanted to be left behind but had been willing; this way he and Tyler were getting out also. He quickly shoved a prep-table aside and started shaping a large devil's trap on the tiles using a can of spray-grease.

No sooner had he finished and stepped out than Caitlyn appeared in the middle of it. She staggered a step and locked her eyes on Dean's. "There's no demons left downstairs," she said quietly, reaching for his hand. "Let's go."

"Tyler first," Dean demanded, practically shoving the youngest inside the trap with her. Caitlyn nodded and the two of them disappeared, leaving Dean alone in the kitchen. Demons were still banging on every door and shouting both threats and bribes to give up. Dean yelled a few choice curse words back at them, basically telling them where they could shove their offers, in an effort to stall and keep their attention.

He only had to stall for about thirty seconds before Caitlyn reappeared, this time staggering a few steps and swaying on her feet. He jumped forward to catch her, wrapping his fingers around her upper arms to steady her. "Hey, hey, you alright?" he asked, concern in his voice.

She nodded, pulling her weight back onto her own feet. "It's hard," she panted. "Taking people with me."

"You sure you can manage me too?" he asked, not wanting to be the reason she got hurt. There was also that voice in the back of his head screaming that this was insanely weird and he really _**really**_ wasn't looking forward to being 'zapped' anywhere, especially by a demon-given mojo.

"I think so," she said, grabbing his arms as he released hers. Before he could argue further, a quick but dizzying wave ran through him top to bottom and he was standing in the small devil's trap back downstairs, Jenna and Tyler waiting anxiously to the side.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath to fend off the nausea then had to move quickly to get his arms around Caitlyn, who slumped almost completely into his arms.

"Caitlyn?" he whispered, holding her up. Her head had fallen forward onto his chest when her knees buckled beneath her. "Caitlyn?"

She lifted her head and gave him a weak smile but couldn't get her feet under her properly. Dean pulled an arm over his shoulder, easily hoisting her thin frame up. "Okay, let's go," he said to the others. He knew Caitlyn would slow them down but there was no way in hell he was leaving her after what she just did for them all.

Jenna nodded and beckoned Tyler in behind her as she led the way back up the stairs and down the hallway that led to the back foyer. Dean was relieved to hear the demons inside the house, still shouting into the kitchen. Awesome, their ruse was working.

The back door was still open so the group moved as quietly as they could across the foyer and outside. They hugged the back wall of the house as they moved away from the demons outside that were staking out the kitchen door just fifty feet away, on the other side of an ivy-clad trellis. Dean remembered from their arrival at the house that the van and the driveway and vehicles were all on that side of the house, in view of the demons milling about the back door.

Just his damn luck – looked like they were going to have to get out of here on foot. Surely a neighbor would have a car he could steal, or at least a phone he could use.

Once they rounded the corner of the house they could see the wall that surrounded the huge property. It was across a wide, open well-landscaped yard that would leave them exposed and vulnerable but the hunter reckoned they'd have to chance it. The demons would be figuring out any second now that they were no longer in the kitchen.

Jenna threw him a questioning look, tilting her head towards a smaller gate just a hundred feet along the wall from the main gate. Dean nodded and, still supporting Caitlyn at his side, started out across the open grass. They hadn't made it twenty feet before the yelling got louder and shouts of "_They're out_!" and "_Find them_!" rang out.

"Go! Go!" Dean urged them, picking Caitlyn right up off her feet and running. They reached the gate just as the demons spotted them.

"You get up; I'll boost her up to you," Jenna told him, stepping in quickly to take Caitlyn's weight from the stronger hunter. Dean nodded and sprang up to the top of the eight-foot high gate with surprising grace for his size, earning himself a "_Whoa, dude!_" from a grinning Tyler. Dean extended a hand down to the teen and pulled him up, holding his wrist until he got one leg clumsily over the top. Dean allowed him to jump down on the other side while he reached back down for Caitlyn.

The brown-haired girl was awake and trying to support herself but with only partial success. Jenna managed to keep her upright while cupping her hands and 'legging' her up into Dean's grip. Dean scooped her over the gate and lowered her down to Tyler, who steadied her on her feet on the other side. He then reached down for Jenna and they were all on the other side a few seconds later.

But there was nothing there. No nearby houses, no stores or gas stations or even pedestrians. Just an empty street and lots of trees, looking very inappropriately picturesque in the pink hues of the breaking dawn.

The shouts of the demons on foot were getting closer and Dean could make out the white van they had been brought here in making its way up the driveway towards the main gate. Silently praying for a passing car to flag down, he tucked himself under Caitlyn's arm again and started running down the road.

He caught Jenna looking back over her shoulder, a worried expression on her face. "There's more!" she hissed. "There must be a dozen of them!"

"They're coming fast in that van, too!" Tyler added, glancing up the road behind them at the white van pulling out onto the street.

"Dean, we can't outrun them on the road," Jenna panted, her eyes darting back and forth between the crest of the hill ahead of them on the road and the wilderness to their right.

Dean had just been arriving at the same conclusion. He had hoped to get over that horizon and find more civilization but there wasn't enough time; that van was closing in. "The trees," he decided, veering off the road and into the ditch on the far said, Caitlyn in tow. "We can lose them in the trees."

They scrambled up the far side of the ditch and through a cluster of brush before finding themselves under the shade of an expanse of large oak trees. "Keep going!" Dean urged when Tyler slowed to look back at him for direction. "They won't give up that easy." He pulled Caitlyn up a little higher and picked up his own pace. With a dozen demons on their tail, they needed to get deeper into the forest to lose them. Either that or get to the civilization on the other side of these trees and commandeer a car.

They kept running, each of them taking more than one nasty tumble over overgrown roots or stumbling on uneven ground, but they all got up without a word and kept moving. They were panting and sweating but nobody stopped, staying as close together as was possible in a headlong flight through the dense trees while being chased by demons.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Sam and Quinn were just a few minutes out of Montecito when Ash called back with an address. Apparently one of the cell phones registered to the dummy company had made a few calls to a landline at a large estate on the north edge of the town, on the border of the Los Padres National Forest. With that being the only link the cyber sleuth could find to anything in or around Montecito, it had to be the place.

Another ten minutes and they were parked just down the street from the address, loading up on holy water and salt rounds. They crept around to the side of the walled estate and picked the lock on an eight-foot high wrought iron gate. Seeing no guards or demons or damn hellhounds lounging on the front stoop, Sam swung the gate open and started towards the house, Quinn moving a quick step ahead of him.

They made it to the house unhindered and chose a side door to enter. Sam picked this lock also, ignoring Quinn's teasing that a seven-year-old schoolgirl could do it faster, but found the door still wouldn't open.

"There's some kind of huge dead bolt on the inside," he frowned. "I can't pick that."

Quinn was already at the closest window. "Bars," she spat. "These mullions are steel bars embedded right into the frame. This place is Fort Knox in disguise, inside and out."

They moved around the house checking every window and door but had no luck until they reached the back where they found a door wide open.

"That's weird," Sam whispered, peering in the door to find a large foyer and a silent house beyond.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Winchester," Quinn grinned, moving quickly past him inside. Sam shook his head in exasperation but followed, finger twitching on the trigger of the shotgun in his hand.

They searched the mansion's main floor and moved on to the upper floor but found nothing. No people, no demons, no evidence of any sinister plan involving kids with weird psychic powers. Just a regular house. Okay, a giant, wealthy, luxurious, opulent house, but just a house all the same - not a secret demon lair. Sam's stomach knotted a little tighter with every empty room they searched, his hope of finding his brother fading quickly.

"Damnit!" Quinn swore when they circled back to the foyer where they had entered the house. "What if…"

"We'll find them," Sam assured her, knowing her well enough by now to see her nerves were frayed with worry over what the captured demon had said about Jenna being dead. "_**Both**_ of them." He pointed towards the door on the left. "Still got some more house to cover. Come on."

He watched the lump move down her throat as she swallowed but she kept quiet and nodded, letting him lead the way for once. They made their way down a long hallway to find a set of stairs at the end.

"There's a cellar!" Sam exclaimed, his spirits rising as he quickened his pace and trotted down the stairs. He barged into a living room, less ornate than the rest of the house but large. What got his attention, however, was the man standing in the middle who turned to face him.

"Did you get them…?" the man asked before Sam came into full view, when he stopped abruptly with a shocked look spreading across his face. "Winchester!"

His eyes flashed black and he lunged at Sam, who raised his shotgun and fired a salt round into the man's chest. He fired a second time just as he heard a shot from Quinn's ten-gauge behind him. The demon staggered and howled in pain but kept coming, landing a punch on Sam's jaw that sent him reeling back into Quinn. The hunters landed on the bottom stair in a heap and scrambled to get back up.

They tried to fire more shots but took more hits than they landed as the fight continued. It wasn't until Quinn was thrown over the couch and the demon paused to gloat that Sam managed to fire three shots in a row that hit their mark, stunning the demon long enough for him to get out the Latin words that sent a black cyclone of smoke into the floor.

The hunters only allowed themselves a few seconds to catch their breath before continuing their search, this time calling loudly for Dean and Jenna since any attempts to keep quiet had been blown in the fight. The door on the left opened into a large, empty room that had cement walls and floor and strange symbols were painted all over the place. The door on the right was just a bathroom so they turned their attention to the long hallway, noticing a devil's trap scratched into the hardwood at the end of it that had been broken with a large burn mark.

The first four doors in the hallway led to empty rooms but the next held a surprise Sam didn't expect.

"Chelsea?" he stammered after sliding the dead bolt free and swinging the heavy metal door open.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

They were exhausted. Every time they tried to stop to catch their breath, they heard demons shouting in the distance. No matter how fast they ran or what direction they turned in, they couldn't seem to shake the demons in pursuit. Demons didn't tire as easily as humans and Dean was more than worried. Caitlyn still wasn't able to run without his help and his heart was thumping so hard in his chest he could hardly breathe. Tyler and Jenna were keeping up but they were all near their breaking point.

They had found a narrow path, an animal trail running alongside a gushing stream, and were following it upriver. Dean stopped abruptly when he heard voices around a rocky outcrop up ahead and fisted a hand in Tyler's t-shirt to stop him.

Demons. Too close to run without being seen.

He looked around and without missing a beat, dragged Caitlyn and Tyler towards the banking on their right, Jenna just a few steps behind them. They ducked down under a large overhang and huddled together, still tucking limbs in when the voices came clearer and the demons rounded the corner. Thankful for the noise of the water that would help to mask their heavy breathing, they froze, all four of them gripping tensely onto someone else.

The demons were having a heated conversation as they drew closer. Dean recognized one voice as Redhead and the second to some other demon he hadn't given a name to yet.

"This is such a waste of time," the male demon growled. "We don't need them anyway. There are other ways of keeping the cage closed."

"Getting them back isn't really the priority at this point, you moron," Redhead snapped. "It's stopping them from blabbing. The Boss would rather see them all dead than it be known what he's up to."

The first demon snorted. "Like he has to worry. He isn't exactly sticking his own neck out. He expects to stop this whole thing from going down without ever showing his face. I mean, using that Yellow-Eyed bastard's own freaks against him? It's insane."

Dean heard a slap that sounded a lot like a fist hitting a face and tried not to derive smug pleasure from the image it brought him.

"That's why you're not supposed to think," Redhead sneered. The pair was right above the hidden humans now. "It's a brilliant plan."

"It's our necks on the line! You know what happens to us if other demons ever find out what we're up to?"

"Same thing if boss ever finds out we lost three of his toys and a Winchester."

"Well, I for one am for killing them over dragging them back." The voices were getting fainter as the demons passed. "All of them."

"Just shut up and find them. We'll decide what to do with them then."

The four huddled escapees stayed where they were long after the voices disappeared. It was Tyler who spoke first.

"Dude, we're like the hobbits in Fellowship of the Ring."

He was grinning and Dean couldn't help but smile back as he extricated himself from the huddle. "What the hell are you talking about, kid?" he said, keeping his voice hushed as he stood up to his full height. "Do I look like a freaking hobbit to you?"

Dean was pleased to see a smile on Jenna's face also, especially considering the unpleasant conversation they had just overheard. She reached out to help Caitlyn back up the banking.

"You mean when they're hiding in the woods," she said to Tyler. "Under the tree root…"

"…And the Ring Wraith is hovering over them!" the youngest finished, still grinning. "Yeah! It was just like that. I mean, you gotta admit…"

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed, putting on a front to keep the mood light as his mind tried to piece together the demon's conversation. The demons would rather kill them all, including the three psychic kids they had been using to further their cause, than to be found out by other demons and Yellow Eyes. It seemed there was some kind of demon war going on after all, and they were right smack in the middle of it.

"Come on, Frodo," he urged Tyler back onto the path. "We gotta keep moving."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

The mousey girl hugging her knees on the bed looked up when the hunters barged into her room.

"Sam?" she questioned meekly.

"Yeah, it's me. Chelsea, how… what… how did you get here? What happened?"

She shook her head and drew her feet in closer. It was clear she was terrified and would take a bit of coaxing from Sam to get her to talk so Quinn went to check the other rooms while he worked on her. Their conversation a couple of days ago must have had an impact becasue she eventually began to talk.

Turned out just a few hours after Sam had dropped Chelsea off at her friend Donna's house, two men had come to the door claiming to be federal agents with some questions regarding Greg. Sam winced at the mention of the abusive boyfriend whose head Chelsea had literally smashed like a dropped watermelon with a flying bowling ball. The men had put her in the back of their car and driven here, where she'd been locked up with another girl called Caitlyn. That had been almost two days ago.

Sam was intuitive by nature and figured out quite easily that Chelsea thought this was all her fault, that this was her punishment for killing Greg and had reverted back to the terrified victim she had been before her bout of vigilante justice.

"So there are others," Sam pressed upon hearing about Caitlyn. "Is there a guy, a few years older than me, short hair, tall - I mean, not as tall as me but…?"

"Dean?"

"Yes! Dean. He's my brother. You've seen him?"

She nodded. "He escaped with the others."

"Escaped?"

Just then Quinn came back in, followed by a pretty girl with short, brown hair. "They were here," she blurted, relief plastered all across her face. "Jenna's alive! They escaped a couple of hours ago. Dean, Jenna, and a couple of other kids." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the brunette. "This is Reagan. She didn't make it out."

Sam looked back at Caitlyn. "Is this true?"

She nodded.

"They couldn't take you?" He found it unlikely his big brother would leave two girls behind.

Chelsea hugged her knees a little tighter. "I didn't want to go," she whispered. "I was too scared."

"Well, you're not staying behind this time," Sam told her, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached a hand out to her. "Come on, I'll get you out of here."

"But if the demons find out I tried to leave…"

"They won't," he assured her. "You can trust me. I'll keep you safe this time, I promise."

She reluctantly took his hand, glancing at Reagan and Quinn as she was pulled to her feet. "I can't go back to Donna's."

"Don't worry. I'll find somewhere safe for you to go this time."

"She's a liar."

"What?" Sam frowned at Chelsea's confusing statement as he followed her gaze to Reagan.

"She's working with the demons," Chelsea elaborated. "Caitlyn says she's been here the longest and that she's helping them find more of us."

Reagan gasped and started to retreat towards the door but Quinn reacted quickly, grabbing a wrist and twisting it around behind the girl's back as she slammed her face-first into the wall.

"You working with demons, bitch?" she hissed in Regan's ear.

"N-n-no," Reagan stammered. "I mean, they made me. I d-didn't h-have a choice."

"Don't lie to me!" Quinn seethed, twisting the girl's arm further and eliciting a sharp cry of pain from her. "Did you help these bastards find Jenna?"

"Ahhh, owwww!" Reagan practically sobbed. "Please, let me go."

"Quinn," Sam protested.

Quinn ignored his objections and only tightened her grip. "No, there's something that doesn't click. If they've escaped, why haven't they called us?" she demanded, addressing Sam but not taking her eyes off the frightened girl she had pinned against the wall. "Jenna would call me as soon as she could. Something else is going on here."

"They ran into the woods!" Reagan cried, her voice pleading. "The demons are chasing them in the woods."

"The woods?" Sam repeated. "You mean the National Park across the street?"

She nodded, another whimper escaping her. "Yes. Last I heard, they were way deep into the woods."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Another hour had passed and their pace had slowed. They had been driven off the path a while ago by demons on the ridge, forced to take cover in the denser undergrowth. Dean hated to admit it, but he was completely lost at this point. They had been turning and doubling back and sidestepping for ages and even his uncanny hunter's sense of direction hadn't been able to keep up.

"Jesus, how big is this forest?" he griped as they rounded a corner to find more trees and even more trees. He stopped, panting as he leaned forward with his hands on his knees, freeing Caitlyn to do the same next to him.

"Depends where we are," Jenna answered, short of breath also. "Could be some random greenbelt, or Angeles National, Los Padres, Boney Mountain…" she shrugged. "California's full of forests."

"Are there bears in here?" Tyler asked, giving them a nervous look.

Dean laughed. "We're being chased by demons and you're worried about bears?"

The teenager shrugged, his endearing, toothy grin appearing once more on his flushed face. "Demons don't eat you," he pointed out.

"Don't worry," Jenna offered. "Dean's got more meat on him than you. The bears'll eat him first."

Dean looked back to Jenna as he straightened up and prepared to get moving once more. "You seem to know your California wildernesses," he ventured. "Got any idea what direction to civilization?"

The blonde shook her head. "Sorry, I lose my car in the parking lot."

Suddenly distant shouts sounded from over the ridge on their right. Dean groaned, giving Caitlyn a dubious look of assessment as he gripped her arm again and prepared to get moving. "Looks like it's this way," he mumbled, steering the group to the left. So far, their only saving grace had been that the demons didn't know where they were. It would be over once they were spotted. They were all too tired to fight.

It seemed they had lost the oblivious demons when Caitlyn let out an exhausted sobbing sound, stumbling and leaning more heavily on Dean. "I don't know how much further I can go," she whimpered. "I'm sorry."

Jenna gave her a worried look. "Can you zap yourself to safety somewhere?"

Caitlyn shook her head. "Nowhere to go," she murmured. "I need a devil's trap at the other end and we're too far."

Dean had been letting her support more of her weight to relieve his own aching shoulder but he hoisted her farther up once more. "Come on, you can do it," he encouraged her. "We'll lose them soon. They're spreading themselves too thin. Eventually we'll be able to slip back through between them. We'll rest soon, I promise."

No sooner had he finished his sentence than a gush of black smoke snaked through the trees up ahead, barreling towards them with a violent force that billowed in their hair and caused them to throw up their hands in defense. It swirled around the four of them, powerful and furious. Dean thought it was going to try and possess one of them but instead it started to rise, circling above them for a moment as if taunting them.

"Damnit!" he swore. "They're gonna know where we are!"

The swirling vortex above them started to move away when Jenna stepped forward. "No!" she cried, extending a hand upward.

Dean watched, both amazed and horrified as the black smoke seemed to struggle, trying to pull upwards while simultaneously being sucked back down towards the blonde. It only took a few seconds and although he somehow knew Jenna was doing it intentionally, he cried out in alarm as the smoke spiraled down her throat. She closed her eyes and sank to her knees, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Jenna?" he shouted, pulling Caitlyn behind him as he placed himself between Jenna and the other two. She rose up slowly and opened her eyes, quickly searching him out and Dean was relieved to see they were still their usual green.

"Devil's trap," she panted, her voice raspy and hoarse. "Draw me a devil's trap."

Dean faltered. "Jen, is that you in there?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I got him. But he's pissed. Please, Dean, draw a devil's trap – we'll exorcize him."

Her plan suddenly became clear and Dean jumped into action, clearing the brush on a patch of dirt and grabbing a stick. If the demon was in Hell, he couldn't tell his buddies where they were.

"Where are we?" Jenna asked and it took Dean a moment to realize she was talking to the demon inside her. "How many of you are there?...The Rangers? Why?... What for? Tell me, fuckhead!"

Dean spared a chuckle at her outburst but started to quickly chant an exorcism. He fumbled just a few words in, however, Latin never having come easily to him and gave her an apologetic look.

She waved a hand, her face tense and her breathing heavy. "That's okay," she told him. "I can do it."

She stepped into the devil's trap and within seconds, the black smoke was spewing out of her mouth, disappearing down into the ground around her feet. She shuddered heavily, resting her hands on her knees and looking up at Dean. "It's gone."

Dean pulled his wits together. "You okay?" he managed.

She nodded.

"I didn't know you could do… that." Dean was careful not to sound too appalled or horrified, remembering how it had taken some heavy reassuring on his part over the past couple of days to convince her she wasn't a freak. This wasn't her fault any more than it was Sam's. He worked at keeping his expression neutral, despite his churning stomach.

"I didn't know," she answered, her voice wavering. "I don't even know what made me try – it just sort of… happened."

That was the way Sam had described moving that dresser to get out of the closet when Max had been about to shoot Dean.

"You could talk to it?" he changed the subject. "While it was inside you?"

"I could tell what it was thinking when I asked it questions," she admitted.

"What did you find out?"

"We're in Los Padres Forest," she informed him. "The demons have possessed a lot of the park rangers and they ordered the park closed, some bullshit story about containing an African Beetle outbreak that can eat the redwoods or something. They're trying to keep their presence under wraps from other demons but they've got over thirty of them searching the woods for us."

"Awesome. That means our chances of finding a camper or a hiker with a cell phone just hit the toilet," Dean groaned. "Which way out?"

Jenna shrugged. "Sorry. I didn't get that far. Shit, Dean, my dad used to take my brother and me hiking here when I was young - Los Padres is like three thousand square miles! We could walk in the same direction for days and never get out of here."

Dean bit his lip and glanced around at the three discouraged faces looking to him for answers. This whole mess was getting crazier by the minute. Here he was, on the run with a mind-reader, a demon-bringer, and the real life version of Nightcrawler. It was like a fricking X-men movie and for the first time in his life, Dean was the normal one. But as usual, Dean felt it was his responsibility to get them all to safety.

"Don't worry," he told them, sounding far more confident than he felt. "We don't know which way is out so we'll just hit the high ground - get a view and figure it out."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Sam made sure Chelsea was safely on a bus heading for Harvelle's RoadHouse in Nebraska before meeting back up with Quinn, who had volunteered a little too eagerly to stash the traitor Reagan somewhere while they found Dean and Jenna. He hadn't asked too many questions but Quinn had assured him the girl wouldn't be hurt and that she would simply leave her 'immobile' in a nearby motel and call some 'people she knew' to guard her until they had time to deal with her later. He tried not to think too hard about the specifics of her plan for Reagan because Dean couldn't really afford the delay of what he would no-doubt refer to as 'Sammy-conscience' right now. Sam had come to realize Quinn was fiercely protective where Jenna was concerned and had zero tolerance for what she perceived as traitors. Much like Dean, he thought with chagrin, picturing how his brother would deal with someone who had sold Sam out to demons.

But they didn't have much time to waste on the two prisoners they had rescued from the empty demon-lair so Sam let her do her thing and met her less than an hour later at the Montecito entrance to the Park. He parked the Impala behind a playground and they continued up the dirt road in the 4x4 Land Rover Quinn had stolen so they could split up.

The sole Park Ranger in the entrance ranger station was rude and his eyes turned black when Sam said the word 'Christo' to his face. The fight was short but brutal and Sam cried out and clutched his injured side when he took a direct hit to his stitches. Between the two hunters, the exorcism was eventually recited and no sooner had the smoke disappeared into the floor than Quinn moved to stand before the map on the wall with her hands on her hips.

"This place is fucking huge," she bitched. "How are we gonna find them before the demons do?"

Sam came to stand next to her, his brows knitted in thought. "They entered here," he said, pointing to where the house was on the north edge of town. "Into a river valley. They'll be keeping off the roads to avoid the demons. Reagan said they were deep into the woods so…"

"So they could be anywhere," Quinn finished impatiently.

"Nah," Sam shook his head, pointing to a circle of tight contours with confidence. "They'll go here. To high ground."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's the highest peak in the area and because there's a firetower on the top," he told her. "And probably a radio."

"So what, we just head up there and wait? What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not. I know my brother. My dad trained us together. Trust me, that's where he'll go."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:**__ So sorry I've been MIA for almost 2 weeks – Christmas turned out to be hectic, as usual! I have story alerts piling up in my inbox and will get to them soon, I promise! Please review and Happy New Year!_


	9. Waiting

_**Previously: **__Dean and Jenna along with Tyler (mind-reader) and Caitlyn (zaps into devil's traps) escape on foot into the National Forest near the house (Los Padres is real, by the way, and is actually 3000+ square miles of wilderness right next to Montecito). They quickly get lost and with demons still searching for them, they decide to make for the top of a peak that Dean is sure will have a fire tower so they can see where they are. Meanwhile, Sam and Quinn get to the demon house to find them gone. Chelsea recognizes Sam and tells them what happened. Sam figures Dean will head for the fire tower so he and Quinn head there also._

**CHAPTER 9 - WAITING **

The road inland to the peak with the fire tower got rougher and rougher as Sam and Quinn pushed on. They were pulled over fairly quickly by a Forest Ranger and told the park was temporarily closed but a couple of sly tests proved her to be human, not demon so the hunters simply apologized and pretended to leave before pulling off the road and hiding in the trees until she had gone by so they could double-back and continue on their way.

A little deeper in, another Ranger flagged them down but they didn't need to do the tests to know this one was a demon. His eyes widened in shocked recognition when they fell on Sam in the driver's seat but Quinn was already out, flying over the hood to douse him with Holy water. Between the two of them, the hunters managed to keep him still enough to get through an exorcism.

Quinn grinned as she got back in the passenger side. "We make a good team, Winchester. We should take this on the road."

By the time they hit the bottom of the mountain, the road officially became an ATV trail. They took the stolen and now severely-abused Range Rover as far up as it could go and parked it, dragging over some brush to cover it from possible passer-bys, demon or otherwise. They had to walk the last quarter mile or so of steep, rocky trail, each carrying a duffel of weapons.

"Won't they come up this way?" Quinn asked. "Maybe we should wait at the car, catch them on their way up."

Sam shook his head. "There's more tree cover on the other side of the slope," he pointed out. "Dean'll probably bring them up that way. He'll be avoiding the main paths and roads. The only thing we know for sure is he's gonna get up to that tower."

The fire tower was a sixty-foot high steel-legged structure with a single-room shed on the top and windows all around offering a view of the forest for miles. They broke the padlock to remove the ladder-guard and climbed up, entering through the trapdoor in the floor. They both immediately moved to the windows and their eyes searched in every direction for any sign of movement.

"The tree cover's too thick," Quinn grumbled. "I don't even see any demons moving around. Nothing."

"That's a good thing," Sam pointed out. "If this was a good vantage point, we'd have demons up here with us."

Standing next to him, she elbowed him playfully in his good side. "Well, aren't you a glass-half-full kind of guy."

Sam chuckled and looked around the tiny room. There was a small desk on one wall with a locked drawer housing the radio. He picked it and got to work tuning into any frequencies the Rangers or the demons may be using while Quinn salted the trapdoor and the window sills. When finished, she sat down on the single bunk on the other side of the room.

"So what now?" she huffed.

Sam shrugged. "Well, I'd say it could go one of three ways. Either they show up here, or they get to a ranger station, or they make it out of the woods."

"Fourth scenario - they get caught by demons again."

"You don't know Dean. That's not gonna happen." Sam pulled the small wooden chair over to the south-facing window and sat down. "If they get to a Ranger station, we'll hear something over the radio. If they get out of the forest, they'll phone us." He checked his cell phone. "I've still got a good signal."

Sam couldn't deny he was worried but logic and reason told him waiting here was all he could do for Dean right now. "Now we wait," he said flatly.

Quinn gave him a dubious look. "I gotta warn ya," she said leaning back on her palms. "Waiting isn't exactly my strong suit." A slow smirk spread across her face and she raised an eyebrow at him. "Whatever shall we do to pass the time?"

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean finally gave in to his own exhaustion and the pleas from the youngest two of his companions and agreed to stop for the night. It was past dusk and was getting dangerously dark beneath the heavy tree cover, the frequency of stumbling and tripping increasing exponentially. The last thing he needed right now was for one of them to sprain an ankle or worse. Caitlyn had been walking by herself for a few hours in the late afternoon, but weakness from hunger had her fisting her hand in Dean's shirt for additional support the past couple of hours.

The fugitives had eaten miner's lettuce and a couple of cactus-looking plants that Jenna had insisted were edible. Dean had been leery about them but was so hungry he took her word for it. So far, none of them had thrown up or run a fever so maybe she had been right. He had thought of trying to throw the knife at an annoying chirpy squirrel - _yes he was that hungry_ - but didn't bother because with fire not being an option, they would have to eat it raw – _no, he wasn't that hungry_.

The weary group had made it to the lower slopes of the mountain, the top of which Dean was sure would have a fire tower. As the crow flies it was probably only eight or so miles from the house but they had been doing so much side-tracking and circling and cutting through the brush to avoid demons that he figured they had traveled more like twenty since their escape at dawn. They hadn't seen a demon in a while and Dean hoped this meant the search was focusing on the river valley they had been winding around in all day.

Caitlyn lay down almost immediately in the shelter of a large rock face and curled up to sleep, shivering in the cool night air. Dean motioned for Jenna to watch her while he took Tyler with him to gather some brush to make a lean-to type shelter over them for the night.

Tyler was pale and tired but to his credit, had hardly complained all day. He didn't argue now and obediently followed Dean into the surrounding thicker woods to gather brush. When they were out of earshot, Dean looked over to find the kid grinning at him.

"What?" he demanded with feigned brusqueness.

"Nothing. Just wondering if you were gonna hook up with Jenna."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Bad timing," he answered. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Why not? She likes you as much as you like her. More even, coz she's not weirded out by you having a psychic thing like you are with her."

"Hey," Dean admonished, well aware of Jenna's self-doubt in regards to her 'psychic thing' and figuring the other two must have similar issues. "I don't... you three and your... I'm not _weirded_ _out_... exactly."

Tyler tugged emphatically on a large branch on the ground, trying to break it free from entanglement. "Yeah, I know," he dismissed, not sounding offended in the least. "You like us. But you _**are**_ weirded out by us - just a bit. And you're scared, but more _**for**_ us than _**of**_ us. I get that. We are kinda creepy."

Dean grew slightly uncomfortable at the kid's bluntness. "Didn't I warn you to stay outta my head?"

"Sorry; habit."

Dean watched him as they worked and found himself wondering why Tyler and Caitlyn were younger than Sam, Jenna, Ava and the others they had found so far. They weren't born in eighty-three. "How long you been able to do your thing?" he asked curiously.

"It started about a year ago," Tyler answered him. "It was weird coz I didn't really know what was happening the first few times. Once I figured it out, I started playing with it but that turned out to be kinda… well it sucked. I mean, I knew I wasn't one of the cool kids at school or anything but to hear what the other kids were really thinking about me..." He shuddered. "That was brutal. Especially girls. That goes double for Naomi Freemont."

Dean winced at the honest admission, not having really thought about that particular side-effect. Tyler was a skinny kid with a lot of freckles but was smart and sweet and brave as all fuck for a seventeen year old. As far as Dean was concerned, Naomi Freemont didn't know what she was missing out on.

Of course, as foolish as teenage girls could be, the hunter knew from experience that they could be downright wicked as well. "Yeah, I can imagine," he acknowledged with genuine sympathy.

Tyler snorted and laughed out loud. "Yeah right. It wouldn't suck for you! Girls don't think you're a dork."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Jenna and Caitlyn both think you're _dreamy_." He gave the hunter an exaggerated eye roll and waved his hands in the air as he said the last word.

Dean grinned. "It's all in the attitude, kid."

Tyler laughed again. "It's not your attitude they're having dirty thoughts about."

"Hey! Have you been reading all our minds?" Dean demanded, dragging the branch he had found to the pile they were making and dumping it on top. "I thought you had to touch someone."

Tyler gave him a sheepish smile. "I've been at this a while. I learned how to slip an accidental hand graze or a stumble-and-touch in there without anyone ever noticing. Dude, can I have the knife to chop this branch?"

"Sure." Dean handed him the knife he had taken from the kitchen in the house.

"See?" Tyler continued. "It's easy."

Dean had to think for a second before he realized the kid had just grazed his hand when taking the knife, so lightly he hadn't even noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled.

"Don't worry," Tyler teased. "I won't tell anyone about you wearing Rhonda's pink undies."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean repeated, a horrified look on his face.

Tyler burst out laughing. "You were thinking really hard about _**not**_ thinking about it."

Dean jabbed his finger in the air at the teenager. "Stay out, you hear me? You are way too young to be poking around in there."

"Okay, okay," Tyler agreed, still chuckling. "I've seen way worse." He dumped a branch and reached for another one. "I think it's nice how you keep encouraging us even though you don't really think we're gonna get out of here alive."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Quinn hadn't been kidding about her lack of patience. She fidgeted and paced worse than Dean and was irritable, short-tempered, and refused to relax and just accept that they were doing all they could right now. She had agreed that finding a high-ground vantage point would have been her game plan had she been down there with Jenna but was having a hard time trusting that Dean would make it to the fire tower.

It took Sam insisting that Dean was just as good of a hunter, if not better, than he was before she agreed to just take his word for it. Sam wasn't sure if he should be offended she believed Dean was better or be flattered that it was enough to convince her.

They had been up here a long time and the orange hues of dusk were disappearing quickly over the western horizon. Any attempts at real conversation on Sam's part had been relentlessly parried with witty remarks or deflective changes of subject. In the last five hours of sitting and watching, he had practically told Quinn his entire life history but she was still being stubbornly elusive with her past.

"So what made you join the Army?" he questioned, perched on the desk where he could still see out the window.

"I wanted to shoot big guns."

"No, seriously. There had to be a better reason than that."

"What's wrong with that reason?"

Sam gave up on that one. "Were you upset when you got discharged?"

"IWell, I was upset I had to spend six months in prison before they booted my ass out anyway."

"Would you have stayed in the Army?"

"And miss out on the fun life of a hunter?"

"I'd gladly miss out on that if I had been given a choice," Sam admitted. "But like Jenna, I can't just walk away, not now. You and Dean can but you don't."

"Jenna _**is**_ walking away. As soon as I get her back, we're dropping off the grid completely."

"You really think the demons will let you do that? Yellow-Eyes has plans for her."

"Fuck Yellow-Eyes."

"Wouldn't you rather find out what those plans are and stop him once and for all?"

"Not if it keeps Jen in his sights."

"And how about you?" he pressed. "Don't you ever want to settle down and not have to worry if you're going to get killed at work today?"

She gave him a cocky grin. "You questioning my hunting skills, Winchester?"

Sam was quickly losing his patience. "Oh my God, Quinn," he groaned. "Are you ever going to drop your cocky, tough-chick defense mechanism?"

She jerked her head around to give him a surprised look. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know guarded when I see it," Sam confronted her. "I live with it every day and you know what? - it's exhausting. Trying to chip past my brother's walls to figure out what's going on inside…"

Quinn remained silent from where she sat on the bed, spurring Sam to continue. "And you know what else? It's not helping." He sighed. "Can't we have an open conversation? We're on the same side. I'm just trying to figure out what this is all about and what the demons have planned for me – and for Jenna. I've told you my whole story. After everything that's happened, you still don't trust me?"

She looked at him for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Actually I do," she shrugged. "And I usually don't so… it bothers me that I do."

He hadn't expected that admission. "Really? Why?"

She huffed and waved a hand dismissively. "Oh you know, the classic, '_if I don't let them in they can't hurt me_' deal."

Sam wasn't sure what to say. That was his brother's unspoken life motto, at least when it came to women or anyone outside their family circle, but Sam had never understood it. The nomadic, lonely life of a hunter had never appealed to Sam. He had always wanted to make friends, to have normal human connections and relationships. He had craved them desperately but he just couldn't seem to forge any lasting ones beyond his small hunting circle. Jessica had been the first and last.

"What about Jason?" he blurted. While speaking of Jenna's brother had been the only times he had seen a crack in Quinn's defensive walls over the past two days so he decided to risk exploiting it. "What was he like?"

Quinn smiled, leaning back and planting her feet with crossed ankles on a log clearly intended to be used as a coffee table. She surprised Sam by answering honestly. "Like Jenna, in a lot of ways. Like me in others but… smart. He used his head. And he was sympathetic and... good. A bit of a do-gooder, actually." Her lip curled up into a cheeky, lopsided grin. "He was a lot like you, too."

"What? He was tall?" Sam joked.

She laughed, not letting him off the hook that easily. "No, he was too damn good-looking for his own good."

Sam blushed, immediately regretting the line of questioning. Damnit, why did this woman rattle him so? He held up the deck of cards they had found in the drawer. "Go fish?"

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean sat on the top of the rock face, hugging his knees and keeping a wary eye out into the surrounding darkness. Jenna and Tyler were cross-legged next to him, both shivering slightly while Caitlyn slept soundly in the shelter they had built below. The blonde had given Caitlyn her heavy leather bike jacket for warmth since the younger girl had left the house in nothing but a t-shirt.

Dean could see Tyler was ready to fall asleep also but decided to take the opportunity to get some information before he sent him to join Caitlyn.

Tyler informed them that Caitlyn had been at the house for a couple of weeks and he figured he'd been there close to a month. He had seen Caitlyn a few times when they were allowed to sit in the living room and watch TV. She hadn't even known she had powers until the demons had shown her what she could do. They had tried to get her to use them, tried to make her practice, telling her she would get better and 'the sky was the limit' but she had been resistant. Reagan, on the other hand, had been there less than a week before she agreed to work with the demons and then suddenly Dean, Jenna, and Chelsea were brought in.

Dean let the questions roll, asking what Tyler knew about the demons' plan, about their boss, the demon war going on, and if they ever had a girl called Ava in the house. Tyler insisted he didn't know much, informing them he couldn't read the mind of a demon. When he tried in the first couple of days, all he kept getting was the fear and pain of the person inside the possessed body so he was careful not to touch them after that. He was fairly certain they had never mentioned a girl called Ava.

As for their boss, they never used his name. They had called him a 'limey prick' a few times and seemed to be absolutely petrified of his wrath if they screwed up. He also wasn't very forthcoming with the big picture, so none of the demons they had met knew the whole story, just their assigned tasks.

He told them that Reagan could see flashes of the other psychic kids, visions of their futures, and from them could tell where they would be at some point in time, which the demons used to capture them. Jenna was to be used as their recruiter, bringing topside the demons they knew would be loyal to their cause. Caitlyn was to be a weapon against hunters, sent to rescue any trapped demons in danger of being exorcized. They hadn't really used Tyler yet, but told him his powers would come in to play later.

"And Sam?" Dean demanded.

"Your brother? They talked about him," Tyler admitted. "They really want him bad. Kept saying he's gonna be their big weapon."

"Weapon?" Dean's heart missed a beat. "But he just has visions; that's it!"

Tyler shrugged. "Sorry. All I know is the little bits and pieces they said when they forgot I was there."

Dean assured him he'd been a big help anyway and suggested he go get some rest with Caitlyn. He told Jenna to do the same but she claimed she was too wound up to sleep just yet and insisted on keeping watch with him.

There was a cool breeze, not unexpected for January even in California, and Dean saw a shiver run through the blonde as they sat atop the rock together. He was cold too, the demons having removed his jacket along with his weapons and lock-picks before he had regained consciousness in the van, so he lifted and arm and beckoned her over. She tucked herself under it and slid her bare arm beneath his blue shirt. The two sat huddled together in silence for a long time, lost in their own thoughts.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You said before that your dad died saving you. What happened to him?"

_Well, that came out of left field._ "Uhhh," Dean stammered, not particularly relishing a discussion on what was a very sore subject for him. "We had a run-in with Yellow-Eyes," he admitted. "I didn't come out of it so good and then when we were driving away, a semi slammed into us. Between what the demon did to me and the injuries I got in the crash, I was in a coma and the doctors weren't holding out much hope for me. But my dad just had a broken arm." He wasn't sure of it was bone-deep weariness or having spent almost every minute of the last two days with her, but Dean surprised himself when the truth started tumbling out of him. "Next thing I know, I'm fine – some kind of miraculous recovery – and my dad's telling me all sorts of things he never would have said, like how he's proud of me and how he should have been a better dad. Then half an hour later, he's dead."

She didn't look up at him. "He just died?"

He nodded and swallowed at the guilt that always hit him when he thought of where his father was now. "But I knew something was up. I knew he'd… he'd done something, made a deal. Then I ran into a crossroads demon and she confirmed it." He sighed and his voice grew soft. "He sold his soul for me to live. He's in Hell right now because of me."

Jenna didn't gasp or seem all that horrified but simply nodded, which struck Dean as strange even through his new wave of guilt. "So you know," she said simply.

"Come again?"

"When the demons took me out of the room the last time, I didn't pull a demon out of Hell for them."

"Then what did you do?" His voice nearly broke at the possibilities and thoughts flying through his mind at this moment.

"You must have noticed I wasn't in as bad shape when they brought me back," she continued, still not looking up at him. Her head was on his shoulder but she kept her gaze downward, her arms still wrapped beneath his outer shirt and her voice quiet. "That's because I didn't bring a demon back with me. They gave me a name and told me to find him, but he wasn't a demon."

"What are you saying?"

"He was a soul, a damned soul. The name was John Winchester. They sent me to find your dad."

Dean was sure his heart was beating so fast the demons would hear it a mile away. "And?" was all he managed to choke out.

"And he was in a bad place. Like, I know Hell is _**all** _bad but there are levels and he was… in a really bad one. I couldn't pull him out because he's not a demon – I'm sorry, I can only take a demon in – but I moved him. The demons wanted me to move him."

"Why?"

"I don't know." She turned her head to glance up at him now. "They asked me to help him."

Dean struggled to make sense of what she was telling him. Why would these demons want to help his father? They were obviously on opposing sides to Yellow-Eyes, but still, why would they help John Winchester?

"What's Hell like?" he blurted, regretting the question instantly and suddenly dreading the answer. Ignorance was surely bliss in this matter.

She shook her head. "I'm not going to tell you that, Dean. You… you don't want to know. But where your dad is now is better than where he was, if that helps any." She gave him an apologetic look for her vagueness.

"Did you talk to him?"

She nodded. "A little. I mean, he was… kinda messed up. The demons there were… He was in a bad place and…" She breathed out a long breath and Dean could tell she was holding back on the gory details for his sake, for his peace of mind and he didn't push.

"When I found him, he wasn't free to roam," she elaborated slowly. "I did what Darksuit told me to do and just grabbed his arm and concentrated on being somewhere else. It worked and we ended up in a lesser level of Hell, but I only had a minute…" She paused again, biting her lip before continuing. "I told him I was with you, with Dean, and he pulled himself together enough to ask about you."

"What did he say?" Dean's voice was thick and raspy, his insides twisting into a knot of fresh grief and loss and bitterness.

"He just said '_Dean? How's my boy?_' I said you were fine and he smiled. Then demons came near and he told me to go and… and I went." She flashed a guilty look up at him. "I'm sorry. I know it's not much but…"

"No," Dean assured her sincerely. "No, it helps. Thank-you." His face pulled into a frown, the irony still eating at him. "But why? Why would the demons want to help him?"

"Well, I don't think it was out of the goodness of their hearts. They said if he stayed on the ra…uhh, where he was, then he might do something they didn't want him to. That's all I got. I wasn't going to say anything at all but when you said you already knew he was in Hell, I figured I could tell you."

Dean just nodded, his mind in a daze and his heart in a vice. Stripping the emotion from it all, he supposed this was good news. His dad was better off than he was yesterday, even if he was still in Hell. He couldn't stop his brain from wandering a dark path with regards to Jenna's psychic talent. The possibilities… She couldn't pull his dad out but she could talk to him. _God, he needed to talk to his dad!_

"So your uh, talents, keep improving, huh? I mean, what you did today, sucking in that demon then spitting him out into a devil's trap…"

He felt Jenna shudder against him and instantly regretted even entertaining the idea of asking her to go back down to Hell so he could get some chat-time with his father.

"Yeah, I guess," she said quietly. "What I did today worked the same as before. I pulled that smoke-demon into me pretty much the same way as I did the one from Hell the other day. It's… disturbing to use. I feel this energy inside and it's… dark. Evil. I mean, it's a little exhilarating, but it's not good. It's definitely demon power."

"It saved our necks today," he pointed out, almost reluctantly. "It worked against the demons."

"I don't care. I hope I never have to use it again, any of this shit. Ever." He heard a quiver in her voice and she leaned in tighter against him. "Fuck, Dean, these talents, powers, whatever you want to call them, they're _**inside**_ me. Lurking in there like evil poison and I don't even know the extent of them. Who knows what else I'm capable of? Those hunters that tried to kill me were right about one thing - I'm tainted. I hate it. I hate all of it and …" She paused and shuddered again. "And it scares the shit out of me."

Dean pulled her closer with the arm he had around her and feathered a comforting kiss her temple. "Me too," he admitted, thinking as much of Sam as Jenna, thinking of his dad's warning.

_If you can't save him, you might have to kill him. _Did the same hold for Jenna now too? And Caitlyn? And Tyler?

They sat in silence for a long moment before Jenna spoke , her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm never using it again."

"You won't have to," Dean assured her quickly. "We're gonna get out of here and find a way for you to stay out of all this demon crap."

If only Sam would agree to run, he thought wistfully. Dean would gladly do the same.

She sighed into his shoulder. "Is that a promise?"

Dean knew better but he said his next words anyway. "Yeah, that's a promise."

She gave him a half-hearted smile. "S'okay Dean; it's not your responsibility."

"See, that's where you're wrong. Sam's one of you, remember, and he _**is**_ my responsibility."

"Your little brother's lucky to have you." Her smile widened. "We're lucky to have you. You know, as far as fellow kidnap victims go, you're not half-bad."

He chuckled, looking down to catch a glint of genuine mirth in her eyes. He was glad to see her cheerfulness returning. He had been impressed by her on so many levels from the moment she had turned down his advances at the diner to now and he had really liked the strength he had seen in her today.

He didn't even realize he was doing it before his lips were on hers, her head tilting up to respond in kind. The kiss only lasted a minute but by the time he pulled away, her face was flushed and his hands were cupping her cheeks. A flicker of sanity pointed out to his rapidly beating heart that he should stop before this went past the point of no return, that this wasn't the time nor the place, that he didn't get to have... _this_. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes to regain control of his breathing.

"You should go get some sleep with the others," he managed, his voice huskier than intended. "I'll keep first watch."

She nodded and withdrew her hands from around him, giving him one last lingering peck on the lips before gathering her feet beneath her and pushing herself up. "Don't try to be the big hero," she warned with a smile. "Wake me up in two hours and I'll take the next shift." She let go of his hand and climbed down the rock to crawl into the lean-to with Caitlyn and Tyler.

"Oh crap," Dean grumbled to himself after she'd gone, rubbing his hand down his face. "Pull yourself together, Dean. This is not the time to be feeling like this."

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

It was dark out now, though the four upper walls of glass in the fire tower allowed in enough light from the half moon to make out faces and furniture. Using any sort of artificial light would be like sending out a beacon to the demons so Sam and Quinn waited in the darkness, staring out across the forest. Although he wouldn't admit it to his companion, Sam was starting to worry. He had hoped Dean would make it to the tower before nightfall.

There was no doubt that if Dean or Jenna had made it out of the forest, they would have called - the cell phones were still showing three bars. So Dean and Jenna and whatever psychic kids they had in tow had to still be out there in the wilderness.

"They're probably camped out for the night," Sam said absently, not even realizing he had said it aloud as he stood staring out over the trees.

He heard a shuffling sound and Quinn appeared standing next to him, her arms folded across her chest. "Jen can fend for herself in the wilderness. They'll be alright."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, they'll be alright," he repeated, trying to settle the knot of worry in his gut. "They'll find their way here in the morning, trust me."

She stared out of the window for a long, silent minute before turning back to Sam. "I'm gonna hold you to that," she said evenly. His gaze lingered on her face and he thought for the umpteenth time how attractive she was, noting how the pale light pronounced her well-defined cheekbones and enhanced her dark eyes with shadow. She quirked an eyebrow at the unintended scrutiny and he turned away hastily, pretending to give the salt lines a visual inspection.

Twisting her wrist, she used the moon's light to look at her watch and let out a loud, disgruntled breath. "You realize that means we have another nine hours at least to wait in this sardine can."

Sam chuckled, not surprised at how quickly her frustrated tone had returned.

She turned and glanced at the single lumpy-mattressed bunk on the far wall and looked back at him, a single eyebrow twitching suggestively. "I'm tired of playing cards, Winchester. Any other suggestions to pass the time?"

The normally shy hunter felt a blush coming on but shook it off. _Fuck it._ She had been flirting with him for two days now and damnit if she wasn't the hottest thing he'd seen since Jess in her smurf panties. Hell, in a bad-assery sort of way, she was hotter.

He lunged at her, his fingers weaving into the hair at the base of her neck to pull her head in closer as his lips crashed into hers. He didn't waste time waiting for permission he was sure would come; he just drove his tongue in and the kiss went from intent to intense in about one point two seconds.

He felt her gasp and her hands fisted into the front of his shirt but it took him a few seconds to realize she wasn't really returning the kiss. He pulled away as fast as he'd swept in, his eyes wide and his mouth floundering its way through an apology. "I'm sorry. I thought…I mean, you've been flirting with me and…"

"Uhh, I, uhh..." she stammered in return. Although vaguely triumphant that he'd succeeded in flustering her, Sam cringed at the awkwardness of his blunder and his hands retreated slightly before she regained control of her tongue.

"Honestly," she said, "I teased because I figured you were too shy and straight-laced to take me up on it."

"Oh," Sam felt incredibly foolish at this point, though a voice in the back of his head was pointing out to him that her fingers were still wrapped tightly in the fabric of his shirt. "You want me to stop then…" It was put out there as a statement, not a question.

The now-familiar smirk returned, curling the ends of her lips. "Hell no," she practically purred, pulling him closer so his chest was pressed against hers. "You stop and I'll throw you through one of these windows." She laughed and before Sam could even register her change of pace, her mouth was back on his.

It was fervent and fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in a dance of rivalry as the pair now locked in a heated kiss stumbled back from the window.

"Bed," Quinn mumbled into his mouth, fighting for control as she pulled him towards the cot on the far wall.

But the bed was too far away for the spike of lust surging through Sam. Using his superior strength to overpower her tugging, he pushed her up against the desk next to where they stood, his hands already shoving her jacket off her shoulders. She gasped but relented, helping him relieve her of her outerwear, followed quickly by her t-shirt and bra. Perched on the edge of the desk, she started working on the buttons on his shirt but her fingers fumbled and a loud moan escaped her when Sam ducked his head to bestow his tongue's attention on her now-exposed chest.

When he finally pulled back to work on removing her jeans, breathless and needy, she went for his shirt again and this time he let her. The instant his arms were behind him though, wrapped in a twist of flannel, she pounced, giving him a hard shove backwards. He freed himself of his shirt but was disgraced when her foot then wrapped around his leg and knocked him off balance, landing him on the lumpy bed behind him. His humiliation, however, was soon forgotten as she wasted no time in straddling him, her mouth once again locked hungrily on his as she fumbled with his belt buckle.

A fire ignited within Sam, one he hadn't known existed before. Sure it had been a long time for him, since Jessica, but this was something new. He wasn't striving for gentle or considerate and he wasn't trying to please the girl so he could keep his false world of 'normal' from crumbling. This time he felt free, guided only by a need to control, dominate, and mark her as his. For the first time in his life, Sam didn't hold back.

He rolled them over and within seconds, any remaining offending garments had been removed and Quinn was screaming blissful filth out into the room. The animalistic lust within him tore loose and had him manhandling her into positions he had never even dreamed of, murmuring dirty things in her ear he wouldn't have dared voice to gentle Jessica. Quinn quickly gave up any residual struggle for dominance, turning herself over to Sam to do with as he pleased, her loud moans interspersed with desperate pleas begging him for more. He was rough and feral and she was clearly as lost as he was in the passion burning between their sweat-soaked bodies. His fingers were bruising and his pace punishing as he brought them over the edge time and time again.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:**__ Yikes, hopefully that didn't push the boundaries of a T-rating (I kept body-parts out of it, lol). For those of you who like the pairings, there's a twist or two you may not (or may) enjoy later on. Those of you who don't want heavy romance, don't worry, this chapter was as heavy as it gets._

_I have read a lot of speculation as to how John Winchester was able to walk out the Devil's Gate in the season 2 finale when he was supposed to be on the rack so I thought I would weave one possible explanation into my story. Hope you thought it was plausible. Let me know what you thought and as always, I'd appreciate any comments or reviews._


	10. Chaos and Calm

_**Previously: **__The escapees spend the night in the forest in a shelter they made from loose branches and brush. Dean grows closer to his companions, bonding with Tyler and sharing a kiss with Jenna. Sam and Quinn wait in the fire tower and let's just say they too ended up 'bonding' lol._

_**A/N: **__Zoneofk, thanks for the review. I guess the answer to your question would be 'now' lol. I try to post once a week but on occasion, RL slows me down but there may be the odd week I get two posts in (like this week)._

**CHAPTER 10 – Chaos and Calm**

The forest fell into that brief, silent lull that happens right before dawn, just after the nocturnal creatures have settled and just before the daytime wildlife begins to stir. Dean shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground in their makeshift shelter, not wanting to disturb Caitlyn, who they had allowed to sleep the whole night through and was now curled up at his side, giving the hunter a small measure of warmth since she was still wearing Jenna's leather jacket and was the only one not shivering.

As promised, Jenna had climbed back up the rock to relieve him from watch during the night and he had grudgingly granted her a two-hour shift while he huddled in the cramped quarters with Tyler and Caitlyn, reminding himself she had some hunter's training and was more than capable of keeping watch. He had managed to get an hour or so of actual sleep before waking and heading back up to spend the following three hours on a shift with a chatty Tyler for company.

Jenna had re-emerged topside around 5:30am, insisting Dean try for one last hour before they had to get up and keep moving. She and Tyler were still on watch now but sleep just wasn't finding Dean. His mind was churning with worry and a doomed sense of responsibility for the members of his little entourage, this little group of psychic kids he had quickly become so fond of.

There was a rustle of leaves that had him instantly alert and suddenly Jenna's anxious face was peering in the open end of the brush shelter. "Voices!" she whispered urgently. "Demons, close by." She looked to Dean, who was sitting up and shaking Caitlyn's shoulder to wake her. "Do we run or hide in here?"

The options raced through Dean's hunter-trained brain. If the demons were close, they would surely hear them running and without a headstart, it wasn't likely the humans would be able to outrun them for long. Demonswere tireless. Better to hide and hope they passed them by. It was still dark out and their shelter was made to look like a natural pile of brush… sort of.

"Hide," he answered decisively, shuffling over to make room for Jenna and Tyler to squeeze in also.

No sooner had they all made it inside than the voices reached Dean's ears. The four fugitives huddled close, all holding their breath for fear of making a noise. The shouts grew louder then fainter then louder once more as the demons moved about in the trees. _Damnit, they must have kept searching all night._

Dean's heart sped up when the two voices he could make out drew so near the heavy thuds of their footsteps could be heard and the rustle of leaves at their feet.

"What's that?" one of the demons called out and Dean cursed inwardly when he recognized the voice as that of Darksuit, or Cole as Reagan had known him. He was the demon that had the freaky mojo that could fling people with a flick of his wrist.

"What?" came another male voice, sounding frustrated and irritated.

"That over there. That pile of brush. And that mound of tree roots over there. You go check them out. I'm gonna see what's over this hill."

_Crap_. That 'pile of brush' was no doubt the makeshift shelter they were currently huddled in and that 'mound of tree roots' wouldn't keep that demon busy for long. On the plus side, Darksuit was heading over the hill, which was in the opposite direction. Dean felt the others crouched behind him tense up and held a steady hand in the air to indicate they needed to stay still. He would wait as long as he could and let Darksuit get as far away as possible before they broke cover and ran. They stood a chance if it was only against one of the regular demon lackeys without that damn mojo.

He could feel someone quivering against his back and wasn't sure if it was Caitlyn or Tyler but was thankful they all did exactly as he ordered, remaining as still and quiet as possible while the demon noisily investigated the mound of tree roots close by. A tree had fallen over, leaving its vast expanse of roots jutting high up off the ground and over the following years, branches and brush had grown over it and piled up around it. It took the demon less than a minute to determine there wasn't room for fugitives hiding beneath its cover and his footsteps moved ominously towards their shelter.

When they scuffed noisily right outside, Dean gathered his legs beneath him and started pushing the others out the far side. "Go! Go! Go!" he barked at them just as he felt the grip of a strong hand on his shoulder through the partially covered 'door'. He spun and swung at it, hoping like Hell the devil's trap he had scratched deeply into the hard earth beneath the shelter didn't get broken by frantic footsteps scrambling to get out.

His fist impacted something hard, hopefully a jaw, and a howl of angered pain escaped the demon, who began ripping the branches off the roof to get at the hunter below. By this time, Caitlyn, Tyler, and Jenna were out the other side and running but the fist now wrapped in Dean's shirt was stopping him from following.

He drew the knife from his belt and slashed viciously at the hand. A pained hiss sounded and when Dean's boot landed in the demon's shin, it finally let go. Dean scrambled out to follow the others, turning only once to see the demon run into the invisible wall of the supernatural trap and stop short. A smirk formed on the hunter's face when the demon cursed its displeasure into the night as it was forced to watch its prey disappear into the trees.

He caught up to the others fairly quickly and urged them to keep moving, knowing Darksuit would be hot on their heels by now. They were in the lower slopes of the mountain and had a long, uphill haul to go before they got to the top. Unfortunately, now that the demons knew where they were, making it to the radio would probably be pointless. Even if he did manage to get a hold of Sam somehow, they wouldn't be able to stick around and wait for rescue with the demons only a minute behind them.

He was still trying to figure out their next move when they were suddenly at the edge of a twenty-foot deep gorge, a dried up riverbed at the bottom. They could make it across but it would be dangerous and slow-going so the choices were downhill and back into the river valley or uphill towards the fire tower.

"This way!" Dean shouted, steering them uphill without a second thought. They weren't going to run to freedom either way – he knew that - but he still needed two minutes on the fire tower's radio to convince some Park Ranger to call Sam and warn him the visions were fake.

They ran right through the orange rays of the dawning sun and kept going, tired and panting on the rough, uneven ground but unable to stop or relent in the slightest for they could still hear the pursuit behind them. Caitlyn was rested and replenished and was managing on her own but worry about how this was possibly going to end well far outweighed any relief Dean was feeling at not having to carry her.

He knew they were screwed the instant the demon in the dark suit appeared out of a line of trees just fifty feet behind them as they crossed a rocky clearing. Dean kept running but glanced back just in time to see Darksuit raise his arm towards them. Next thing he knew he was off his feet and flying through the air only to come crashing down into the rocks upside down and with brutal force.

Momentarily stunned, he wasn't aware of much except the throbbing in his head and shoulder and the blood trickling down his cheek until he pulled his wits together enough to look around and seek out the others. They too were down, though they seemed to have fared better than he had. No signs of blood, anyway. They were at the edge of the clearing, all four of them trying to get back to their feet.

_Damn demon mojo._

Another flick of Darksuit's wrist and the four of them were tumbling backwards again, pressed up against large rocks or trees, unable to move as the demon advanced liesurely towards them.

"Dean?" Tyler gasped in panic, squirming against the large rock he and Caitlyn were pinned on. "What do we do?" His eyes were wide with fear and begging the older hunter for help. Dean was suddenly reminded how young the kid was and struck by how terrified he looked and he cursed himself for letting him down.

"Don't worry," he assured them all in a calm voice low enough the approaching demon couldn't hear him. "I won't let him hurt you. If they take us back, we'll just escape again. It'll be alright."

Tyler nodded but as the demon got closer, the teen turned to Jenna. "Can't you do what you did yesterday?"

Dean cringed as he heard the question asked of the blonde, remembering how she had practically vowed to never use her powers again. She swallowed and her gaze met Dean's for a fleeting instant, looking more apologetic than scared. She looked back to Tyler to answer his question.

"I don't know if I can," she admitted. "I can pull them into me but I'm not sure if I can pull them out of another person."

"Please try," Caitlyn whimpered, turning also to beg the blonde.

Dean's heart sank in pity when Jenna nodded. He had promised her she wouldn't have to do this.

"Of course," she agreed hurriedly. "I'll try."

He would have told her not to if it was just his life on the line but he took one look at the terrified younger pair on the far end and kept his mouth shut.

They waited the thirty seconds that seemed like an eternity for the demon to reach them. He stopped about ten feet away, smiling triumphantly at each of them in turn, his hands on his hips. Tyler and Caitlyn were side by side against a large, jagged rock, just ten feet from the overhanging edge of the gorge while Dean and Jenna were pressed against trees a few feet away.

Jenna's face pulled into a strained scowl before Darksuit could even speak and he frowned at her in return. The silent stare-off continued for a full minute and Dean's eyes darted back and forth between them. Finally, Jenna slumped back against her tree once more, panting.

Darksuit started to laugh. "Jenna, dear," he gloated. "You're learning quickly. I'd be proud of you if I wasn't quite so furious right now." He took a step closer. "You really think you can pull me out of this meatsuit?" he taunted. "That's unlikely, even if I didn't have this." He unfastened the buttons at his left cuff and pulled his shirt and jacket sleeves up to reveal a symbol burned into his wrist. Dean instantly recognized it as the binding mark Meg had placed on Sam's skin to prevent herself from being exorcized from his body.

"You see…" Darksuit continued, clearly enjoying having a captive audience, even if it was quite literal, "...it seems the younger Winchester has been tearing his way through my subordinates, sending them back downstairs faster then we can replace them." He smirked at the blonde. "Creating more work for you to bring them all back, I'm afraid."

_Sam?_ Dean's heart lurched with renewed hope and fear for his brother.

"In light of these unfortunate events, however, the boss thought it prudent to tighten up security," the demon continued with a snarl, holding up his wrist. "I hate bearing this mark. It's uncomfortable to say the least." He narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Your brother is proving to be quite the challenge. And resourceful, I must say. He even made it to our house."

_The house? Sam made it to the house? Did the demons have him?_

Darksuit kept talking. "You fools may not realize it, but you are lucky I found you when I did. You only had until noon before the boss was going to bring in one of his hounds. Have you ever seen a Hellhound?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Of course you haven't; you can't see them unless you're marked. But I can tell you, Hellhounds don't capture – all they do is kill. They would have torn you to pieces."

_Oh crap_. Dean didn't know much about Hellhounds but he did know they wouldn't be able to sneak around in the woods with giant sniffer dogs with fricking walrus fangs chasing them, even if they did manage to get away from their current predicament, which didn't seem likely in light of Jenna's failure. He fingered the handle of the knife in his belt behind his back. If he could somehow get off this tree and slice the mark on the demon's arm…

"S-so you're just gonna take us back to the house?" Tyler asked, his voice sounding hopeful. The kid was clearly remembering the demon conversation they had overheard yesterday about deciding whether to capture them or just kill them and be done with it.

The demon snorted out a malicious sounding laugh. "Oh dear boy, you four have no idea how much trouble you've caused me with this little runaway stunt of yours. No, my child, I think you need a lesson."

He turned to Dean. "I would love to use you to make my point here but since your brother is still eluding us and the boss _**really**_ wants his hands on him, I need you for bait. So I guess I'll have to make my point another way."

He made a show of waving an arm in the air and Caitlyn suddenly flew away from the rock she shared with Tyler. A terrified scream escaped her as she sailed over the gorge but ended abruptly when she slammed into the rocks on the other side with a sickening crack. In a gruesome display of physics, she bounced and hit more protruding rocks, twisting and turning before landing on a ledge half way down the other side, her body contorted and splayed at every possible unnatural angle.

Dean was vaguely aware of Jenna's horrified scream as he stared helplessly at Caitlyn's still body, shock fury, and guilt taking turns sweeping through him. All he could think was he had sworn to protect her, to get her to safety, and he had failed.

Fuck... he had to get down there… check on her.

Tyler was whimpering loudly in broken, heaving sobs against his rock, his eyes screwed shut. Jenna was standing deathly still a few feet from Dean staring down into the gorge, her face unreadable.

Darksuit was laughing… fucking _**laughing**_.

But then Dean felt it, a momentary slip in the force holding him in place, probably caused by the demon's distraction or glee at the sick spectacle. He reacted, seizing the opportunity before it was gone and lunging at Darksuit. He hurled himself into the demon, trying to knock him off his feet.

It worked… sort of. He managed to get Darksuit onto the ground and landed a couple of punches but he hadn't exactly been in a clear frame of mind to think his plan through and within seconds, the demon had Dean on his back on the rocks, ramming the hunter's head repeatedly into the ground beneath him. Dean took the punishment, not like he had a choice, but he also took advantage of the demon's blind fury to slip his hand back and draw the knife. He struck in between the blows that were dizzying his vision, swinging the knife around sharply and hitting his mark on the first try.

The blade sliced neatly right through the center of the binding symbol on Darksuit's wrist.

The demon reared up for a second, bellowing out in pain and surprise. Dean used the brief reprieve to catch his breath, his intention being to call Jenna to do her thing but the blonde was already there. He blinked the blood out of his eyes to see her standing over him, behind Darksuit. She raised a hand towards the demon and her eyebrows knitted together in a look of intense concentration.

Dean remembered Darksuit's taunt that she wouldn't be able to yank him out even without the mark but held out hope she could pull this off. As much as he hated everything about demons and whatever they had done to these kids, Jenna using her powers now was the only chance they had.

Darksuit snarled and turned towards her, getting up off Dean to advance on the hastily retreating girl. She had her arm outstretched towards him even as she stumbled backwards, her hand trembling furiously. Dean didn't think it was working but suddenly the demon was doubling over and belching, black smoke coming out of his mouth in spurts. Jenna stood her ground and suddenly the entire whirlwind was spewing out of Darksuit and spiraling into her, disappearing down her throat in spastic gulps.

She stood panting for a few seconds before waving her hand wildly at Dean. "Devil's Trap," she croaked, sinking to her knees next to the empty, dead meatsuit. There was a trickle of blood running from her nose.

Dean pushed himself up off the ground, his head fuzzy from the abuse he had taken at the hands of the demon. Still holding the knife, he started to scrape the symbol into the ground. It was difficult between the blurry spots in his vision, the rocky terrain, and the distraction of multiple angry voices in the distance growing closer with every passing second.

"_Oh shit, you're fucked up_," he heard Jenna whisper but the meaning of the words was complately lost on him as he concentrated on drawing the symbol.

As soon as the last line was etched into a flat rock, Jenna shuffled into it and forced the demon out. It swirled and bubbled around her but finally disappeared into the ground. Dean gripped her shoulder and pulled her to her feet. "You okay?" he said urgently.

She nodded, breathless but steady so Dean quickly turned to Tyler. "Run, Ty!" he ordered the wide-eyed teen standing behind them. "Get going! Run!"

Satisfied when Tyler nodded and disappeared into the woods beyond, Dean steadied himself on his own feet. "You too," he told Jenna, stepping past her towards the gorge. "Those demons are close. Go."

"Wait, where are you going?" she asked, fisting a hand in his shirt. "We have to run!"

He shook his head, his mind working frustratingly slowly. "I gotta check on Caitlyn," he slurred.

"Dean, no." Jenna said, shaking her head and tugging him towards the woods where Tyler had fled. "She's gone. We have to go."

Dean couldn't accept that. _There was a chance…_

"Dean! She's dead! You saw her… she's dead. We don't have time." The words tore into him like a stake through the heart, his foggy mind finally processing the truth in them.

The way the young girl's body had been twisted… the way her neck was bent way too far around… how still she had been when she came to a stop on that ledge…

"Dean, please," Jenna pressed, her tugging becoming more urgent.

He nodded groggily, trying to shove the thoughts of Caitlyn into the usual dark recesses of his mind for processing and future self-torment. His muscles seemed to be extremely slow in obeying some of his commands, but he finally got them moving in the direction of the woods, Jenna just a step in front of him with her fist still wrapped in his sleeve.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

"Hey Tiger, you're on my jeans."

"Sorry." Sam rolled one hip up so Quinn could pull them out from under him. He was naked, lying on his back with his fingers laced behind his head and a moth-eaten blanket they had found in the first-aid drawer draped over his lower half. He was also well aware of the goofy grin on his face as he looked up at her. The same grin he had ridiculed Dean for on countless occasions after the elder Winchester had returned from a proclaimed wild night of shameless carnal indulgence.

Quinn gave him a wary look as she slid her foot into her pant leg. "You're not gonna get weird about this are you?"

Sam shook his head, his smile never wavering. "No, I'm a big boy."

She laughed, glancing downwards to the folds of the blanket. "You can say that again, Tiger."

He was surprised at how comfortable he felt with Quinn right now and after having spent an entire night having the best sex of his life, he was reluctant to let the intimacy end. "So I'm Tiger now, am I? Not Winchester?"

"You earned it."

"Does this mean I can call you Talise?"

She snorted, pulling her jeans up to sit loosely on her hips and grinning back at him. "Not if you value your life. And it's Talise with an _'ess'_ not a _'zee'_."

Sam rolled on his side and let his eyes drink up the view of her slim, athletic form standing before him. "It's an unusual name," he pointed out.

"It's Muskogee. My mother was Native."

Wow, Quinn actually mentioned a family member. Progress. "What does it mean?" he pressed.

She rolled her eyes, turning to search the small room for her bra. "Beautiful water or some such shit."

"Well, they got the beautiful part right."

She blushed. It could have been the hint of the dawn's first rays just breaching the eastern horizon, but Sam would put money on that pink hue being a blush and he grinned again.

"You have a lot of tattoos," he observed, enjoying the easy small talk. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him until she was standing between his knees. She was looking down at him, a relaxed smile on her face that he hadn't seen before now. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the US Army star on her hip. "I know what this one is, but... what's this?" He spun her around to brush his lips over the tattoo at the small of her back, a pentagram in a circle with fiery waves around the perimeter.

"Anti-possession tat... duh," she answered, turning back around to face him as her face pulled into a frown. "Hey, come to think of it, I didn't see one on you. Don't you have one?"

Sam shook his head. He'd never heard of an anti-possession tattoo. It certainly sounded more reliable than the charms Bobby had given them after the Meg incident.

"No wonder you got possessed by that Meg bitch. You and your brother need to get properly inked, especially these days."

He pulled her down by the hips so she was straddling his lap. "I might just do that," he acknowledged quickly, not wanting the conversation to return to business so soon. "So, what's this one?" He let his fingers trace a row of Chinese lettering around her right upper arm."

"It says Fú wú zhòng zhì, huòbùdānxíng."

He laughed at her terrible pronunciation. "Say what?"

"Loosely translates to mean 'Fortune never comes twice and misfortune never comes alone'."

He raised a quizzical eyebrow and she shrugged.

"It sounded a lot more profound when I was sixteen and angry at the world."

Quinn at sixteen was hard to picture but the image that came to mind had Sam chuckling. "And these?" He moved his attention to three banner-scroll tattoos on her upper left arm, each bearing a set of initials

Quinn's expression saddened as she lifted her arm to drape over the taller hunter's shoulder and tilted her head to look at the tattoos.

"That's an Army thing. Fallen comrades. That's Tim Reilly and that's Juan Ellis." She pointed to the top two in turn but stopped at the last one. Sam noticed a small heart on either side of the initials JAH.

"And that's Jason Harrison," he finished for her softly.

"Yeah." She gave him a sheepish look. "You know, until tonight, I haven't been with anyone since him."

"Really?" He quirked an eyebrow at the surprising revelation. She was forward and had flirted with him relentlessly, even if she had later admitted it was because she didn't think he would act on it. "The way you look, I would have thought you'd be beating them off with a stick."

She laughed as she backed off his lap and resumed the search for her lost bra. "Well, you may find it hard to believe, but some men find my sweet disposition a little hard to take. Turns out most men don't like girls who can strip and reassemble an M4A1 and kick their ass while they do it." She found the bra and pulled it on. "For some strange reason, I tend to scare them away."

"And how much of that is intentional?" Sam challenged.

"Hmph. Okay, Dr. Phil, I'd like Sam Winchester back now, please."

He smirked. "Sorry, you wore Sam out last night. The doctor's filling in until he recuperates."

She chuckled and leaned back against the desk facing him, her t-shirt bunched and forgotten in her hand. "Well, I guess, the doc might be right on that one. It's just easier, you know?"

"You mean, if you don't let them in they can't hurt you," Sam repeated her words from the night before.

She gave him an accusing look. "You trying to say you don't play that tune? Thought that was the hunter's anthem."

He shook his head. "No. For me it's more like if I don't let them in, _**I**_ can't hurt _**them**_."

He threw aside the blanket and rose to his feet, grabbing his boxers off the floor.

She studied him for a moment before pulling her t-shirt on. "Are you talking about Dean?" she asked finally. "You can't be blaming yourself for his situation."

Sam pulled his jeans up and sat back down without zipping them. "No, it's not that exactly." He sighed, his thoughts steering from Jessica and his mother to Dean at the mention of his brother's name. "I just want to get him back."

"You guys are close, huh? Even for brothers. I mean, I've seen dedication before but... what you guys seem to have is something different. Have you always been that way?"

He thought about the question and nodded. "Yeah. I just didn't realize it before. I guess I'm just now really starting to understand Dean, to see him for who he really is - to appreciate him for who he really is." He bit his lower lip in thought before continuing, pleased to have a willing ear he could open up to without having to skip the part about being a hunter.

"When we were kids, he was always there for me. I mean, he did everything for me - more than I ever realized. He was always the hero, you know? My awesome big brother who everybody at our schools wanted to be and who always got the cheerleader... and the cheerleader's best friend. Then somehow, as we got older, he became the annoying big brother who always did what Dad said. He was always following orders and telling me to just do what Dad wanted, not to argue, not to challenge, not to question. Suddenly he wasn't the big hero anymore. To me he was a mindless foot soldier. And the more I argued with my dad, the less respect I had for Dean. When I went to Stanford, I just wanted to get away from the life I had so badly... from all of it. I didn't realize how much I hurt Dean when I left. Now, after Dad died and everything we've been through the past year and a half, I see him differently. He's strong but... but he needs me and I need to be there for him more."

He swallowed, his heart heavy with thoughts of his missing brother. "I just never realized how damaged he was. How little self worth he has despite the cocky attitude and the false bravado he puts on. I don't understand how I didn't see that before. How I could let him think I left _**him**_ for four years?"

Quinn gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, you didn't leave him this time. Hell, you almost got killed more than once trying to find him."

"I haven't found him yet," Sam pointed out somberly.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Dean knew there was something wrong as he ran. His vision was still blurring and he was stumbling far more than he should be. His head was throbbing and he was fairly certain he wasn't going to make it to the fire tower. Jenna was keeping pace with him but he was slowing her down and he knew it. They had completely lost Tyler and the hunter could only hope the teenager would somehow make it out of here unscathed. And Caitlyn… well, Caitlyn was gone.

His foot hit a rut and he went down, his knees slamming onto the hard ground with jarring force. He didn't get back up.

Jenna was soon crouched in front of him, repeating his name and trying to haul him to his feet. He struggled to pull his thoughts together but they kept flying apart and he fell back onto his ass in the brush with a groan.

"Dean, get up!" Jenna pleaded.

He shook his head. "I'm slowing you down," he said, reaching to feel the bumps on the back of his head. "Darksuit, he… I'm feeling dizzy… concussion maybe. You need to go." He would get up if he could figure out which way 'up' was.

"I can't leave you here. Let me see." She pushed his hand aside and prodded his injury with her fingers. He could feel the sticky heat of blood in his hair and winced when she touched a particularly sensitive spot.

"Get off," he said brusquely, batting her hands away. "Get away from here, Jen. Go. Go or you'll end up like Caitlyn."

"Dean, you don't know what you're saying. We stick together."

"Yeah that worked out so well for her." It was suddenly overwhelming. He buried his face in his hands, feeling the familiar weight of failure smothering him, the harsh despair of not living up to expectations, of letting someone down. "Fuck, she was just a kid."

"Dean, what happened to Caitlyn wasn't your fault. The demons killed her. Demons and nobody else. In fact, you're the only reason they haven't killed us all. It was you who got us this far. Me and Tyler, we're better off here than locked up being forced to using demon powers every day, eating away at us from the inside out. You saved us from that. Caitlyn wasn't your fault. I need you to get up. I can't do this without you. Dean, please, I need you."

Jenna was saying nice things, encouragement and absolution he wasn't used to hearing and for a brief moment, he swallowed it up, letting himself belief what she was telling him.

But his head was still spinning and his legs were like Jello. He wouldn't make it to the tower.

_Sam_. A flickering moment of lucidity suddenly gave him a clear picture of the situation.

Darksuit said Sam had been at the mansion. Which meant he likely knew Dean had run into the woods. Which meant he would know where Dean was headed.

"Sam's at the fire tower," he blurted.

"What? No, Dean, you're not thinking straight."

"I am. Right now I am. He'll be there."

"How do you know?"

"Coz I know Sam. But Jen, I can't… I'm seriously going to pass out. You need to get there. Sam'll find Tyler and we can get out of here."

"I can't leave you here," she insisted. "What if they bring in that Hellhound early?"

"Jesus Christ, Jenna, would you just go?" He managed a chuckle at her stubbornness. "We're kinda screwed here. We need Sam."

She gave him a hard stare but eventually nodded. Leaning in, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before standing up. "Try to stay awake," she warned him. "Your concussion could be serious. And stay hidden. I'll come right back for you."

He gave her a haphazard salute. "Yes, ma'am," he grinned.

She gave him a lingering look but finally turned and ran, not looking back as she made her way through the brush and up the steep slope.

Dean sighed and looked around. He was fairly well hidden where he was - thank God because he really didn't think he could have moved. Hell, he was barely staying conscious.

He may have very well blacked out for a while but voices snapped his head back up. He blinked a couple of times and looked around as he tried to pinpoint where they were coming from. He groaned when he recognized Keanu's voice and then Lefty's, shouting loudly from a couple of hundred feet away.

He sank lower into the brush, hoping like Hell Jenna had enough of a head start. A chortled gasp escaped him, however, when he heard another voice. A young, scared voice begging someone not to shoot him.

"Tyler!" he called, though his voice was weak and barely audible. He struggled frantically to get to his feet. "Tyler!"

He saw him. The teen was standing in the distance, his hands in the air. Two demons stood facing him, laughing while one held the gun outstretched towards him, taunting him. The stand-off didn't last very long, however, and soon the demons had holstered the gun and were gripping the boy by the arms, marching him away down the hill and into the trees.

"Hey! Over here!" Dean slurred, pissed and frustrated that his voice just wasn't carrying. Shit, they had Tyler… Shit, the kid needed him… the kid was alone... He slumped to the ground and darkness swallowed him.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

It was light out now and Quinn stood silently watching out the east window, towards the river valley the hunters believed was hiding Dean and Jenna. Sam was playing with the radio again, searching through the frequencies in hope of any communication that could be between demons or demon-possessed Park Rangers. He rooted through the duffels in an effort to find something he could use to better the reception but to no avail.

He did, however, find a Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum revolver in Quinn's bag and pulled the huge gun out with a laugh. "You weren't kidding about liking big guns, huh?" he teased.

A smile finally pierced her tense expression and she grinned back at him. "That's Dirty Harry's gun," she informed him proudly.

He rolled his eyes as he put it back in the bag and came to stand next to her.

"You know why I really joined the Army?" she offered out of the blue, her voice pensive.

He remembered she had insisted it was because she liked to shoot big guns and found he was extremely curious what the real reason was. "Why?"

"I wanted to belong. See, I know you had issues with your father, but mine left before I was even born. My mother didn't particularly want me; hell, she barely waited 'til I had popped out of her womb before she hit the bottle again. I was raised by my grandparents who didn't want to be raising another brat at their age; their own kids had all moved out years before."

Sam was surprised at the sudden flow of information he had been trying to pry out of her for three days and stayed silent, not wanting her to stop.

"So basically I wasn't wanted anywhere and I never belonged anywhere," she continued, still gazing out the window. "I enlisted the day I turned eighteen and suddenly, for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a family."

"I get that. Would you have stayed if they hadn't discharged you?"

She shook her head. "Nah. I'd run into a brick wall in the Army anyway."

"That 'problem with authority' thing?"

She slapped his arm. "No, the boob thing, actually. See, women in our military can be 'attached' to front line infantry units but never permanently assigned to them. I mean, we can be pilots, mechanics, drivers... but I kept getting assigned to supply units or first aide units." She ginned up at him. "I wanted to drive a fricking tank. Was that really too much to ask?"

"I would pity the enemy," he acknowledged with a laugh.

"Hooyah." She folded her arms across her chest and resumed her scanning of the forest below. "The problem is there's this common belief that the emotional battering soldiers take in combat would be worse if they saw women fellow soldiers dying as well as men. And then there's what they call 'misplaced chivalry'. They say if soldiers are captured, men would give up information quicker if the women were threatened."

Sam didn't want to get into a political debate with her but he shrugged one shoulder. "Well, there could be a bit of truth in that," he defended. "I'm not saying it's fair but… I can tell you Dean would cave sooner if the demons threatened say, Jenna rather than some dude."

"And he wouldn't cave just as quickly for you?" she argued.

"No, he would," Sam admitted freely.

"And you're a guy."

"Yeah, but I'm his brother."

"Soldiers are all about brotherhood. It doesn't matter if that brother has boobs or not."

Sam grinned. "Eloquently put."

"You've watched GI Jane too many times, Winchester."

"So how'd you get into hunting?"

"I met Jason when I touched a possessed broach and he stopped me from decapitating a Private who bumped into me by accident. Some kind of rage curse. I helped him track it down and that ended with me punching my CO, who happened to be under its influence by the way, but poof, my Army days were over." She sighed. "I was so shocked to find Jason waiting outside the prison when I got out. I joined him and never looked back." She gave the tall hunter next to her a chastising look. "See, hunting doesn't discriminate. Equal opportunity ganking."

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, you remind me so much of my brother at times."

Her lip curled in apparent distaste and she laughed. "That's kind of a creepy thing to say after what we just did all night. I didn't realize you Winchesters were _**that** _close."

"Ha ha." He ignored the tease. "So after the incident with the cursed broach, you decided you belonged hunting?"

"I decided I belonged with Jason," she corrected. "Hunting came a distant second. Oh! Uh, sorry, I guess that was an even creepier thing to say after what we just did all last night."

"No, that's fine," Sam disagreed honestly. "I mean, I thought I belonged with Jess. At the time, anyway."

"And now?"

"Now I realize I didn't belong there at all. With her, at Stanford, studying to become a lawyer, going on dinner dates, meeting her parents, working part-time to pay the rent and the cable bill. She was normal and... and that's not my life."

"Do you still want it to be?" Quinn asked seriously.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. So much has happened since then. Then there's this demon connection I have, this psychic thing, that's inside me. I can't hide from that."

She frowned. "These visions of yours don't define who you are; what you do about them does. And trust me, everything you're doing is the right thing. Just keep making the human choices at every turn and stop doubting yourself." He recognized her now-familiar bossy tone creeping back in. "I keep trying to get that through Jenna's thick skull too. There's nothing _**wrong**_ with you."

Sam listened but shook his head. "Try telling that to Jessica."

"Wow. You're one stubborn knucklehead, you..."

"Oh shit! Quinn!"

"What?"

"Look!"

He was already reaching for the trapdoor in the floor. Emerging from the treeline below and stumbling across the open mountain peak towards the tower was a slim blonde girl.

Quinn gasped. "Jenna!"

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

_**A/N:** Chapter was called Chaos and Calm - not hard to tell which scenes were which. I hope the 'Chaos' parts weren't too upsetting and hope the 'Calm" parts weren't too boring! Thanks for all your reviews so far and alerts and faves - they are very much appreciated, every one. Very excited to hear about Baby Ackles - it would have been a shame to let those perfect genes go to waste! Congrats Jensen and Danneel!_


	11. Out of the Woods

_**Previously: **__Dean, Jenna, Tyler and Caitlyn run from the demons but Darksuit catches them and kills Caitlyn to prove a point. He tells them the demons all have binding marks to keep them from being exorcized but Dean slices through it and Jenna pulls the smoke into her and out into a Devil's Trap. They all run but they lose Tyler and since Dean got hit in the head, he collapses so only Jenna makes it to the fire tower where Sam and Quinn are waiting._

**CHAPTER 11– Out of the Woods**

Sam lifted the trapdoor and Quinn practically jumped down onto the ladder. He took the time to drop her duffel and sling his own over his shoulder before following her down. Hitting the ground running, his longer legs allowed him to catch up with Quinn and they both reached Jenna at the same time.

Jenna didn't even spare him a glance as she launched herself into a fierce hug with Quinn, mumbling incoherently into the older woman's ear. Quinn returned the hug just as emphatically but pried herself loose when she caught Sam's urgent eye over Jenna's shoulder.

Sam was glad Jenna was safe but he couldn't see Dean anywhere and desperately needed answers.

"Jenna," Quinn said calmly, "You okay?"

The blonde nodded, out of breath and still gripping her friend's arms. "Yeah," she panted, "but Dean…"

Sam's heart skipped a beat. "What about Dean?" he jumped in impatiently.

Jenna turned towards him, giving him a quick once-over. "You Sam?"

Sam nodded, the sympathetic look in her eye making him swallow with dread at what she was about to say.

She tilted her head towards the trees behind her. "He's hurt. There are… demons after us. They're close… they're everywhere. Come on." She took a few steps, beckoning him while she tugged on Quinn's sleeve. "We need to go get him."

They followed her without hesitation, both carrying their duffels of weapons slung over their shoulders and keeping a sharp eye out for demons.

"Tyler, too," Jenna panted as she ran. "We lost him."

"Tyler?" Quinn asked. "Is that one of the others who escaped with you?"

Jenna nodded, her face going slack for a second. "There was Caitlyn too but…" She looked to the woman running next to her and her voice wavered. "They killed her, Quinn. They killed her."

Quinn's lips drew into a tight line but she hooked her hand under Jenna's elbow in a reassuring gesture as they kept moving.

Jenna was clearly pushing herself and extreme weariness was evident in her stumbling stride. Sam would have offered to slow down but his worry for Dean was too great so he urged her on, running a few steps ahead and turning frequently to check which direction.

It took a half hour to reach the area Jenna claimed she had left Dean and fortunately, they encountered no demons. The tree cover was less dense in this part of the woods, the trees smaller, offering less shade and allowing more dense undergrowth. Jenna claimed she had left Dean awake but suffering what she suspected was a concussion, hiding in a large patch of the shrubs with the yellow buds.

But she couldn't quite remember exactly where that was. She kept apologizing and backtracking then staring indecisively at random landmarks. Sam tried to hide his mounting frustration.

"It might be down here a bit," she said finally, stopping with her hands on her hips to breathe. She threw Sam an apologetic look. "But it could be around the hill a bit that way," she pointed. "Ahhh, sorry; it all looks the same and I..." Her voice trailed away.

Sam bit back a short-tempered remark, trying not to think of the possibility that they couldn't find him because the demons already had him. "I'll go that way," he offered. "You two go down that way. Call if you find him."

"No, Winchester, we should stick…" Quinn started but Sam cut her off.

"Dean's hurt, Quinn. We need to find him now." With that he tore off through the brush, his eyes roaming frantically for any signs of the yellow-budded bushes. They seemed to grow in clusters where the trees were more sparse and sunlight reached the forest floor, so he steered himself in the direction that seemed vaguely brighter.

A long ten minutes passed before his phone rang. He let out an audible gasp of relief when Quinn informed him they had found Dean. She said he was unconscious but assured Sam hastily she was certain he would be fine. Sam made his way quickly in the direction she had given him, worry and relief tumbling over themselves in his gut as he ran.

His approach along a narrow animal path was quiet and the women didn't hear him coming. He could make out Jenna and Quinn both kneeling over what he guessed must be Dean and despite his worry, found himself smiling at the conversation they no doubt thought was private.

"He's kinda beautiful, isn't he?" Jenna was saying in a hushed voice.

Quinn chuckled and rocked back on her heels. "Well, I'll give you that much." Her gaze shifted upwards to the smiling blonde and she frowned. "Aw Jen, no, tell me you're not falling for a hunter."

"What? No, of course not. I mean… well, he's…" Jenna grinned at her friend. "Why not? You did. What's wrong with a hunter?"

Quinn groaned. "Nothing. But if he's even half as good as his brother, I'm gonna have a bitch of a time kicking his ass when he breaks your heart."

"What makes you so sure he'd break my heart?"

A sad sigh escaped the darker-haired woman. "Coz he's a hunter."

Sam's foot rustled some leaves and both women turned to see him step through the cluster of bushes. He dropped to a knee next to Dean.

"Pupils are a bit dilated," Quinn assessed. "Jen says he took a bump to the back of the head but his breathing's even and smooth and his pulse is good. No blood in his ears but we should get him to a hospital anyway."

Sam nodded, knowing from years of experience how serious a concussion could be. He couldn't help but reach forward and place a palm on the side of his brother's face, the knot in his gut loosening slightly in relief of at least having Dean back, if not unharmed.

Jenna gave Sam another sympathetic look. "The demon kept banging his head on the ground. He was slurring so at first I thought he was fucked up but then he got up and ran so I thought he was okay…"

Sam managed a chuckle. "Yeah, that's Dean for ya."

"Alright Winchester," Quinn directed standing up. "Pick up sleeping beauty here and let's get going. If I'm not mistaken, the car's south of here."

"What about Tyler?" Jenna stammered, stepping back so Sam could hoist his brother up into his arms. "We can't just leave him here with the demons."

Quinn shook her head. "He could be anywhere, Jen."

"But…"

"Dean needs a hospital," Sam reminded the blonde, grunting as he stood up bearing his brother's dead weight. "Now."

He barely saw the sympathetic look Quinn directed at Jenna before he was striding away through the trees, trying hard not to jostle Dean as he walked. He felt bad leaving an innocent in the woods to fend for himself, especially another psychic kid like him, but his brother would always come first. Jenna gave no further argument and he heard the women falling in behind him.

"We haven't seen any signs of anyone, demon or otherwise," Quinn pointed out. "If Tyler's heading for the tower like you were, it's salted and warded and I'll come back for him myself as soon as we get you and Rip Van Winkle here outta danger, okay?"

Sam didn't like the thought of Quinn coming back up here alone and had no intention of letting it happen but decided the argument could wait until Dean was safe. He also knew Dean would be tearing him a new one as soon as he woke up for leaving this Tyler kid to fend for himself. He felt guilty but… but this was _**Dean**_.

They walked quickly but quietly, Quinn in the lead carrying both duffels and using her GPS to locate the car. They came out onto the ATV trail just a few hundred yards up from where they had hidden the stolen Range Rover and were making their way down to it when she lifted an arm, stopping Sam and Jenna in their tracks behind her.

Sam saw the glint of the sun on metal around the corner up ahead and was sidestepping into the trees with Jenna and Quinn within seconds. He lowered Dean to the ground carefully, wincing when he got a groan out of the unconscious hunter. He hushed his brother softly as they hunkered down, the sound of heated voices soon drifting their way.

The demons up ahead seemed to be stopped and were arguing. The glint had come from the sun on the windshield of their SUV, parked in the road not a hundred yards from where the hunters had hidden the Range Rover.

"We got one of 'em. We should just call it quits and let the Hellhound finish the rest."

"We've only got the mindreader," the second voice snapped back, this one female.

"They mean Tyler!" Jenna gasped in barely more than a whisper.

The female demon continued. "We really need the recruiter. She's the most useful right now. It would be a waste to let the Boss's pets rip her to shreds."

"Yeah well, that bitch sent Cole back down to the pit. I say…"

"And that bitch can bring him back! Try to _**think**_ for once in your life."

"Come on," the male demon whined. "The kid here says they were headed for the falls down in the river valley. Let's at least go there instead of wasting our time here."

Sam felt a renewed pang of guilt upon hearing that the captured psychic kid he was willing to abandon was bravely steering the demons away from the tower and their getaway road.

"Yeah, alright," the woman agreed after a long pause.

Sam crept a step forward to peer through the leaves at the demons up ahead and glanced sideways to see Quinn doing the same. He could make out the female demon, a redhead, pushing herself off the hood of their car and dusting her ass off.

"Two demons," Sam observed in a whisper. "And I think there's a kid in the back seat; looks like a teenager."

"Tyler," Jenna interjected, her fingers wrapping tightly around his bicep from behind. "We have to help him."

Quinn ignored the blonde and gave Sam a questioning look. "What do you think?"

Sam was surprised the normally bossy hunter was letting him make the decision. He bit his lip, not liking their chances here but hating leaving this Tyler kid. "I'm not sure. You?" he put the question back to her.

She shrugged. "It's your brother. Your choice."

Sam's eyes fell on Dean, who was lying still, his head lolled sideways on a soft patch of grass and his features relaxed and peaceful. He shook his head.

"We can't take them on right now," he decided. Jenna had informed them the demons now all bore binding links, effectively preventing them from being easily exorcized. The likelihood of winning a fight against two of them weren't good. And he _**just**_ got Dean back.

He saw Jenna's eyes widen and her jaw move as if to argue but she glanced down at Dean and never said a word, instead closing her mouth quickly and nodding in acceptance. Sam decided right there and then he liked her.

"We'll get Tyler back later," Quinn assured her and Sam wondered if leaving Tyler to his fate was bothering Quinn as much as it was bothering him.

The demon's SUV started up and pulled a seven-point turn on the narrow road before slowly rumbling away. The hunters emerged from the bushes, Dean once again cradled awkwardly in Sam's arms and they made their way to the Range Rover without further incident. Sam put his brother on the back seat where Jenna immediately cradled his head gently in her lap. Sam gave her an approving nod and jumped into the passenger side up front. Quinn started slowly down the road, taking care not to catch up with the demons.

As they drove, Jenna filled them in on her and Dean's capture and subsequent days of captivity. Her voice wavered when she explained what the demons had made her do and that she had taken it one step further in the woods with Darksuit. She avoided eye contact with Sam and Quinn both, instead keeping her head down and her attention focussed on her fingers tracing the lines of Dean's face in her lap. Quinn's grip on the wheel tightened so much her knuckles were white but the reassurances she gave her young friend sounded calm and convincing.

So much so Sam found himself fleetingly wishing Dean could be just as supportive with Sam's visions.

They were on the homestretch when two things happened. First, Dean let out a soft groan and his eyelashes began to flutter.

"Dean?" Jenna whispered softly and Sam immediately draped himself over the back of the seat to get a closer look at his brother.

He was halted in his efforts, however, by an urgent cry from Quinn. "We got company!"

He snapped his head around to see a Park Ranger truck headed towards them on the dirt road.

"Crap – demons or humans?" he wondered out loud.

"No idea," Quinn admitted tersely, tightening her grip and not slowing in the slightest. Sam spared a second to think he would hate to be caught in a game of chicken against her.

The approaching truck swerved abruptly, pulling to a complete stop across the narrow road and blocking their path.

"I'm gonna go with demons," Sam mumbled, rooting about in the duffel at his feet. Weapons were unnecessary, however, for Quinn just pressed harder on the gas. "Uhhh, Quinn?" he stammered.

"Hold on!" Quinn ordered, heading straight for the truck.

"Ahh fuck," Sam cursed under his breath, bracing himself for impact against the dash.

Quinn managed to just clip the back end of the truck, putting the Range Rover's passenger side wheels into the ditch to avoid a full-on collision. The vehicle still jerked and lurched forcibly upon impact and again as she tried to get back up onto the road. Sam was quick to turn and check on his brother, who let out a ragged groan – a good sign, he told himself. Jenna had her arms around his shoulders, trying to hold him onto the seat through the jostling. Sam was about to help her pull him back up but there was a loud pop and a cracking sound. Shards of tempered glass sprayed inwards as the back window shattered.

"Jen! Get down and stay down!" Quinn barked.

Sam dropped the shotgun he had retrieved and reached instead for his Glock as his eyes watched the Ranger's truck skid back onto the road behind them. He glanced over at Quinn and frowned. "Can't you just once manage to _**not**_ hit something?"

She grinned at him. "Stop side-seat driving and shoot his damn tires out already."

He twisted himself around and got onto his knees in the seat, rolling down his window and leaning out. He wasn't going to risk firing over his brother, after all. He waited until the truck was almost on their ass before firing several rounds in rapid succession, smirking when both front tires popped. The truck swerved and kept coming but was losing traction and speed and the hunters soon managed to pull ahead enough to lose him.

"Not bad for a civilian," Quinn quipped.

"Shut up and drive."

Ten minutes later they were charging past the Ranger Station at the Park entrance and out into the streets of Montecito. They decided Santa Barbara was the closest hospital and Sam didn't want to take any chances with his brother by trying to go any further. It was the running family joke that Dean had a hard head but… well, it wasn't really the funny kind of joke.

Dean became more alert before they got there. Sam knew it didn't mean he was fine or even close to fine, especially when he didn't struggle to get up but instead remained lying with his head resting feebly in Jenna's lap. Sometimes after a head injury, the brain renders the person unconscious to allow itself time to heal itself and deal with the trauma and Sam was hoping that was the case here but... Dean had been out a long time.

"Who's that?" Dean asked groggily, glancing up at the back of Quinn's head.

"Quinn. She's my friend," Jenna supplied.

"Where's Tyler?" was his next question, deep creases lining his forehead.

"We had to leave him," Sam explained.

"Sammy, no," Dean argued from his prone position in the back seat. "No, we can't. He's just a kid." He frowned again. "The demons got him… I remember."

Sam nodded, still twisted over the seat. "We know. We saw him."

"And you just left him there?" Dean's voice was accusatory and he tilted his head enough to look upwards. "Jen? That true?"

"Hey, we didn't have a choice," Quinn interjected defensively on Jenna's behalf. "It was you or him."

Sam knew what Dean was about to say – that they should have chosen Tyler - and cut him off. "Dean, we'll find him. Let's just get you checked out first, okay?"

They pulled up to the hospital and Sam quickly exited the dented, beat-up Range Rover. Jenna slid out also and announced she would run in and grab one of the wheelchairs for Dean but an indignant snort from the injured hunter stopped her short.

"I can walk," he groused, his eyes lifting but fleetingly to meet his little brother's. Sam caught the unspoken plea and immediately grasped Dean's arm, allowing the stubborn, prideful fool to lean heavily on him as they made their way inside.

Quinn left to ditch the stolen car and fetch the Impala, a favor asked with silent looks from Sam as he slipped her the keys behind Dean's back. By the time she returned twenty minutes later, Dean had been taken away by the ER nurse - in a wheelchair much to his chagrin. Sam filled Quinn in, explaining that the doctor had been extremely concerned upon hearing how long his patient had been unconscious and had immediately ordered Dean taken for a CT scan to determine if there had been any hemorrhaging or swelling of the brain. Sam had been told it would be a couple of hours for the results and was instructed to fill in the appropriate paperwork while he waited.

"He got insurance?" Quinn asked, looking skeptical.

"Dean Kilmister does."

"That works. Listen, I called the guys that I asked to watch Reagan while we were in the park," she said, her forehead creasing. "She's secure."

Sam just nodded, finding it hard to really care what had happened to the traitor Reagan right now. A nurse came up just then to inform him that Dean was out of the scanner and had been taken to a room but wouldn't stay put and was demanding to see his brother. Sam nodded and hurried off after her, knowing full well how difficult of a patient Dean could be – well, unless the nurse was hot, then he was all charm. This nurse resembled a male lumberjack who hadn't shaved in week.

He managed to get Dean to agree to at least wait a little while, maybe even until the results came back, though the doctor's recommendation that he spent the night for observation was out of the question. To distract him as much as anything else, Sam filled him in on what had happened on his end since he had dropped Dean off at the diner almost three days ago.

Dean looked tired as he lay quietly on the bed in the hospital pinney and listened, frowning in overprotective concern at every part of the story involving demons. At the end, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a long minute and let out a deep sigh. Sam knew his brother well enough to know he was stalling while he buried his anxiety, fear, and loathing of Sam's psychic abilities and the fact that the demon target painted on Sam's back just got bigger.

"Alright," he said in his infuriatingly dismissive manner that meant he had stowed his emotions and pulled his impervious facade back on. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean cut him off. "So, dude, that Quinn chick's hot. You hit that?"

Before Sam could answer, Dean laughed at his own joke. "Of course you didn't. That would involve you actually touching a girl." He smirked facetiously and pointed at his clothes, which had been folded and placed on the counter by the door, gesturing for Sam to pass them over.

Sam rolled his eyes but didn't bother correcting his brother's mistaken assumption regarding him and Quinn. He did, however, move himself in between Dean and his clothes, his brows pulling into a determined frown. "No, Dean. You're staying here. At least until the results of your CT come back."

"Dude, I'm fine," Dean scoffed. "It's not exactly my first concussion."

"People have died from less."

"Other people. The doc can call us with the verdict."

"If you're still alive to take the call."

"Just hand me my clothes, would ya? We got things to take care of."

"Dean?" Both brothers turned at the voice to see Jenna entering the room followed closely by Quinn. "How are you doing?" the blonde asked, her face full of concern.

Dean's challenging scowl disappeared and a smile spread across his face. "Never been better. Sammy here was just gonna pass me my clothes so we can get out of here." He threw Sam a pointed glare.

Sam rolled his eyes, realizing there was no way to stop Dean short of cuffing him to the bed. He gave his brother his best bitchface but handed him the clothes. The women headed back out into the hallway for a moment to give Dean some privacy to change. Sam tried to help but got batted away and griped at for his efforts.

Two minutes later found them all heading down the back stairwell and out into the hospital's rear parking lot. Upon reaching the Impala, Dean took a moment to sweet-talk and fondle his baby, oblivious of the three hunters staring at him, the two women with weirded-out looks and Sam just plain embarrassed for him.

"Uhh, I hate to interrupt," Quinn said finally. "But can you dry hump the car later?"

Dean threw her an indignant glare but moved to the driver's door, only to be intercepted by Sam.

"I'm driving," the younger Winchester said, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. "You and your concussion can ride shotgun."

They were barely out on the freeway before the argument broke out. Quinn ordered Sam to head towards the motel where she left Reagan, an order that was immediately countered by Dean, who insisted they head back to the mansion to get Tyler.

"We're not going back there," Quinn said flatly, clearly not used to being challenged. "That's suicide."

"Well we're not leaving an innocent kid in the hands of demons," Dean barked back.

"So you want to hand Sam and Jenna over to them instead?"

"This ain't my first rodeo, sister. Nobody's getting handed over."

"Yeah, coz that worked so well for you last time."

Dean shook his head in growing annoyance. "Thought you were US Army, sweetheart. You forget your little mantra about leaving no man behind?"

"There's no way we're getting back in that house! There were dozens of demons in those woods. Now that you're out and they've stopped searching, where do you think they've gone? Back to that fucking house, that's where!"

"Not for long now that hunters know about it," Dean pointed out. "They'll be clearing outta there soon and once they're gone, we may never find Tyler."

"We got other ways. The girl, Reagan..."

"Reagan's a traitorous bitch!"

Sam decided to intercede before things escalated further. Dean wasn't used to being challenged either. If Dad or Bobby weren't there, he was in charge. That was the way he liked it and Sam had quickly figured out Quinn was not one to take orders from someone who hadn't yet proven themselves to her.

"Wait, Dean, Quinn's right," he cut in.

"You taking her side?" Dean shot him a disgusted look. "Look, I get it. You two didn't meet Tyler. But you gotta trust me he's a good kid and we don't abandon good people."

"We're not saying abandon Tyler," Sam placated, knowing exactly how to handle his brother when he got heated and protective. "We're just saying let's play this smart. The house could be crawling with demons. If it's not, then chances are Tyler's not there either. Reagan can find the other psychic kids with her mojo. We have her stashed in a motel room in Montecito. We get her to find out where Tyler is, or rather where he's going to be, and then we go get him when the numbers are more in our favor."

"And when the demons aren't expecting us," Quinn added.

Sam could see the logic of the new plan working its way through Dean's thought process. His brother finally nodded and his shoulders loosened, though his face remained tense. Patience had never been Dean's strong suit, especially when someone he cared about was in trouble.

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

They arrived at the motel ten minutes later and Dean quirked an eyebrow as they pulled up the stone-laid driveway past the neatly manicured garden beds. This definitely wasn't a motel of the usual Winchester low standards. Then again, this was Montecito. Quinn directed them to the end 'cottage' that had an old Ford pick-up parked outside and told them to hang back as she went up to the door, knocking sharply.

Dean stepped up next to his brother as they waited at the end of the walk. "Sammy, your girlfriend is a pain in the ass."

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed. "She's not my girlfriend," he refuted meekly.

They watched as Quinn greeted a shady-looking man who answered the door wearing baggy jeans and a white muscle shirt, large numbers tattooed up his arm. The two spoke quietly for a moment before the ex-Army hunter pulled a wad of cash from her pocket and handed him a number of bills. He stuffed them in his own pocket then disappeared back inside for a moment, only to come out a few seconds later followed by another equally shady-looking man. Quinn gave the second guy a quick handshake and the men strode down the walk towards the Ford, giving the Winchesters an unimpressed look as they passed.

Dean raised an eyebrow, heading quickly up the path to the cottage door. "That's some upscale company you keep," he said sarcastically as he followed the brunette inside.

Sam groaned inwardly as Quinn spun to glare at him. "Really?" she challenged. "You live in a fucking car and you're gonna judge?"

"In case you didn't notice, sweetheart, the seven-six-nine tattooed on dude's arm is a gang tat. And not a-bunch-of-punk-kids-selling-dope type gang."

Sam remembered the two weeks he and Dean had spent in a high school somewhere in Los Angeles. Dean had briefly dated a girl whose younger brother had been pulled in by a local gang and when the young hunter had tried to play the hero, he got the shit kicked out of him by a few of the members for his trouble. Dean had been known to hold a grudge.

"Yeah, well his brother's Army and I trust him," Quinn fired back, pointing to Reagan, who was sitting with rope binding each wrist to the arms of the chair and duct tape across her mouth. "Efficient and dependable. See?"

As the bickering continued, Sam stood just inside the doorway next to Jenna. "I really thought they would get along," he said with a sigh.

Jenna giggled. "Nah, I totally saw this coming." She tilted her head up to give him an apologetic look. "I swear, she's different once you get to know her. She's actually kinda... gentle."

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I know."

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

_A/N: Not even a cliffie! Yay! I was trying to get this to the next action scene but things have been hectic so I decided to post this much. Not a big action chapter – sorry. More next chap, I promise, as the gang tries to rescue Tyler._


	12. No Man Left Behind

_**Previously**__: Jenna finds Sam and Quinn at the fire tower and together they go back to find Dean unconscious in the woods . They opt to leave Tyler with the demons in order to get Dean to a hospital. When Dean wakes up, he checks himself out right away, determined to go rescue Tyler. Dean and Quinn rub each other the wrong way and argue over... well, everything. The hunters decide to use Reagan (the psychic girl who was cooperating with the demons) and her psychic mojo to find Tyler._

_**Author's Note:**__ I apologize again for taking so long to get this chapter up (almost 2 weeks, I think). Between RL and some creative blocks, I had a really hard time finishing it. So sorry._

**CHAPTER 12 – No Man Left Behind**

"That's not how it works!" Reagan repeated for the third time, tears streaming down her cheeks. Dean was leaning over her with his hands clamped on her wrists, which were still tied to the arms of the chairs. His face was right in hers and his tone was harsh and threatening.

"That's how you found Jenna and Sam!" he accused, ignoring the tears and the fear in her voice. "You used your psychic thing to find out where they were and you ratted them out to the demons! NOW FIND TYLER!"

"B-but I c-can't..."

"Yes you can! And you damn well will!"

"Dean," Sam admonished. "Take it easy. She's just a girl."

Dean straightened up, frustrated and angry at their lack of progress. Reagan had started out defiant and angry, spouting threats about Cole coming to find her and what he was going to do to them all when he did. The fight had left her when Dean had smugly informed her Darksuit was back in Hell and wouldn't be finding anything but a fire poker up his ass, but she was still wasn't cooperating. Now she was just sobbing.

"She's not just a girl," Dean barked at his brother. "She's a girl who sided with demons. She made her bed." He walked over to the table to snatch the beer Sam was handing him and take a breather. Probably wise to calm down before he ended up taking a swing at her.

"She's still human," Sam reminded him. "A scared human who was being held prisoner by demons."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, giving him a _'save it'_ look.

Sam lowered his voice and spoke close to Dean's ear. "Look, the doc said you shouldn't exert yourself, remember? I'm just saying, take it easy."

There was a sharp slapping sound of skin on skin and the brothers turned to see Quinn standing before Reagan. Or more like _over_ Reagan because the chair was on its way to the floor. It hit with a loud crack and a pained cry from the young girl tied to it.

"Alright, bitch," Quinn said coldly. "Butch and Sundance over there may not want to hit a girl but trust me, I have no such reservations." She uprighted the chair and immediately gave Reagan a sharp punch in the gut. "Now do your thing and find Tyler or I'm gonna hafta get out my knife."

Sam winced at the rough treatment but glanced sideways to see a smirk cross Dean's face.

"Okay, Sammy," Dean grinned. "Maybe your girlfriend isn't so bad after all. You can keep her."

Quinn flashed them a grin before wrapping her fist in Reagan's hair and yanking her head back. "You gonna play ball?"

"I...I...c-can't..." Reagan sobbed.

Quinn reached behind her and pulled out a four inch blade, waving it in front of the girl's face. "Not what I wanna hear," she practically sang.

"I w-would, but I c-can't find him just like that!" Reagan squeaked, her eyes widening at the sight of the knife.

Quinn dragged the tip of the blade across Reagan's collarbone, slicing a very shallow but painful cut. Reagan cried out in pain.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said mockingly. "I thought I heard the word 'can't'."

Dean leaned closer to Sam. "Uhhh, is she bluffing?" he whispered.

"I don't really know," Sam admitted with a nervous shrug.

"It... it takes time!" Reagan got out. "I can do it but... but not just like that. It takes me a while to find them."

"Explain." Quinn kept the knife in front of the girl's face.

"To get a psychic link... to get a vision of the person's future..." Reagan blubbered. "It can take hours or even days... just to find them. I send feelers out there but... but it can take a while." She broke out into another series of open sobs.

Quinn released her grip in Reagan's hair and straightened up. "Better get started then," she said evenly. "You've got twenty-four hours."

"Then w-what?" Regan looked terrified.

Sam grabbed Quinn's wrist and pulled the pissed off hunter's arm away from their prisoner, just in case. "Then we let Quinn here do whatever she wants," he said to Reagan, his tone deadly serious.

Quinn gave him a slightly offended look but moved away. "Fine. She's all yours, Winchester. At least for twenty-four hours."

Reagan nodded. "I'll try. I'll try. But sometimes..."

"Hey! Do or do not, bitch. There is no try." Dean kept a straight face as he threatened Reagan but broke out into a giddy smirk at his own joke as soon as he turned away, in turn getting a giggle from Jenna, who had been watching the whole scene from where she sat on the bed, having showered and now wearing Quinn's spare clothes.

The next hour passed torturously slowly. Reagan was harassed every five minutes by either Quinn or Dean, neither of whom had much patience. Sam sat at the table in front of his laptop, finding what he was seeing quite amusing. Dean and Quinn sat on the bottom corners of the king sized bed glaring at their prisoner, looking like bookends with matching frowns on their faces.

Quinn stood up first, letting out a frustrated groan. "Jen, you need some real food," she announced, grabbing her jacket. "You hungry too?" she asked Sam.

Sam nodded, realizing he should have thought of food for Dean but was too used to being bitched at whe he fussed over his brother. Between Jenna and Dean, half the contents of the motel's vending machine had been devoured shortly after their arrival but they could probably use some proper nutrition after being in the woods for more than a day.

"I'll get enough for all of us." Quinn gave Sam a deliberate, questioning look as she opened the motel room's door to exit. "Stay frosty, huh?"

Sam nodded his silent confirmation that he would keep Jenna safe in her absence and she left. He moved to turn his attention back to his laptop but glanced up at Dean first. His brother looked ragged and weary.

"Dude, she said it could be hours; days even," he pointed out, gesturing to Reagan who had her eyes closed and her forehead scrunched up like she was trying to concentrate really hard on something. "Get some sleep. I got this."

Dean sighed but nodded, sliding himself up to the top of the bed and lying down on top of the covers, still fully dressed. "Yeah, alright. Just a couple of hours."

"You must be tired, too," Sam said to Jenna.

"Yeah, come on Jen," Dean urged, lifting an arm to direct her over to his side. "Look at the size of the bed we got now," he added, waggling his eyebrows. "Can do a lot more on this than that frigging cot."

Jenna rolled her eyes and laughed but didn't waste any time climbing onto the king sized bed and curling up right next to Dean, her head resting in the crook of his arm. Sam watched them with amusement; they seemed oddly comfortable with one another, their interaction strangely casual. It was rare he saw Dean around a pretty girl without his cocky, smooth, flirty facade on full tilt but the two of them simply settled in together quickly, closing their eyes and looking entirely relaxed. Sam supposed that was to be expected after spending three days in close confinement with another person, but it was still a little strange for him to be seeing Dean this way.

Especially with a girl who was... _nah_, Sam shook his head. He wasn't going to finish that thought.

_A girl who was a freak like him. _

Damnit, he finished it anyway.

By the time Quinn came back fifteen minutes later, Dean and Jenna were both fast asleep. Sam noticed the older hunter's mouth draw into a tight line when her eyes fell on the pair snuggled together on the bed and he realized she didn't share his optimism about whatever relationship might have developed between her friend and Sam's brother.

She settled in the chair across from him and they ate talking in whispers, all the while keeping the pressure on Reagan to find Tyler. Sam released their prisoner's bound wrists to let her eat, ignoring Quinn's grumbling about being too soft on her. Quinn insisted on accompanying Reagan into the bathroom for a pee-break and re-tied her wrists as soon as her meal was finished.

Dean and Jenna slept for over six hours. Sam kept a close eye on his brother for any signs of complications regarding his concussion but Dean slept soundly, a clear sign he had been utterly exhausted. The younger Winchester also intercepted the inevitable call from the doctor and, after receiving an earful for leaving the hospital A.M.A., was informed Dean's CT scan had come back clear. Sam finally allowed himself relax a little.

The waiting game continued. By nightfall Regan still hadn't been able to locate Tyler. She had at least confirmed he wasn't at the mansion or anywhere in Montecito but was still waiting for one of her 'feelers to catch'.

Quinn decided she should take the opportunity to go get her car, a decision Sam was confident was a result of boredom as much as any need to retrieve her weapons stash like she claimed. The car was still parked behind the motel in Burbank and since they had only paid for two nights in their old room and would have been automatically checked out by now, it made sense that the badly dented car being left there may bring unwanted attention. Quinn insisted she and Jenna would be there and back in less than three hours, including the time it took to steal a car for the ride down.

Naturally, an argument ensued when Dean insisted they stay together for now and Quinn told him to not to get his panties in a twist because Sam would still be there to hold his hand. Dean came back with a snarky remark comparing the lengths of their respective hunting careers and it just seemed to escalate from there. In the end, Quinn and Jenna left.

They had been gone just over an hour when Reagan found something. She gasped suddenly and turned towards Sam, breathing heavily. "I've seen him, I've seen him."

"Who, Tyler?" Dean was out of his chair in a heartbeat, moving to hover over her. "Where is he?!"

Her eyes widened fearfully and she leaned back as far as she could in her chair, giving Sam a pleading glance out from behind his intimidating older brother. Sam urged Dean a few steps back and gestured for her to continue. "Did you see Tyler?" he asked more calmly.

"Yes. He was in a building... or something."

"A building or something?" Dean was clearly trying to keep belligerence out of his voice. "You're gonna need to be a little more specific, sweetheart."

"It was dirty and empty but there was like, long hallways. And boarded up windows. And not a lot of light."

"And Tyler was there?" Sam urged.

Reagan nodded. "Yeah. Josef was taking him back to a room after a trip to the bathroom."

"Josef?" Dean queried.

"Yeah, you know him." Reagan peered warily past the taller hunter. "He's the one who looks like that guy from the Matrix."

Dean chuckled. "That's right. That guy's a douche."

Sam quirked an eyebrow.

"One of the demons from the mansion," Dean explained, looking a little sheepish. "There was Lefty, Righty, Redhead, Keanu, a couple we didn't name, and Darksuit." His frown returned and he glared at Reagan. "That last one was the demon this bitch was _screwing_."

Sam raised a hand to calm Dean down before he got pissy again. "Reagan, what else did you see?"

The slim brunette still tied to the chair pursed her lips before continuing, clearly upset by the mention of Darksuit. "They were putting him back in the room they'd been keeping him locked in. He has a mattress on the floor and they'd given him McDonalds to eat but he wasn't hungry. I think he's scared because he threw up when he was in the bathroom. Josef was being a jerk; he said it was Tyler's fault they were all stuck squatting in these digs until the boss found them somewhere better to go."

"And..." Sam encouraged.

"He was telling Tyler that Dean abandoned him. That he left him high and dry as soon as he saw a chance to get himself out of there."

Sam didn't need to look at his brother to know Dean was practically trembling with rage. "Keep going," he urged their prisoner. "Any detail you can think of."

"Josef said he was going to make sure Tyler paid for all the trouble he had caused."

"Was the kid alright?" Dean asked, his tone unreadable. "Was he hurt?"

"Well, he wasn't bleeding or anything. Chad was there too and..." she glanced up at Dean, interrupting herself. "That's the one who possessed the FBI guy and has the gun," she explained.

"Lefty," Dean snarled. "That guy's a dick."

"Dude, they're all dicks," Sam chuckled. "They're demons."

"Chad punched Tyler," Reagan continued. "And kicked him."

Sam saw Dean's fists clenching in his peripheral. "Do you know where this warehouse is?" he asked hurriedly.

She shook her head. "I didn't see anything outside."

"Concentrate," Sam coaxed. "Remember details. Signs on the wall..."

She scrunched her eyes shut in concentration. "Uhhh... there was a poster on the wall in Tyler's room. It had a picture of a lion - no a leopard - on it. A blue leopard. Ummmm..." She opened her eyes but Dean took an intimidating step forward and she closed them again quickly. "Oh shit, uhhh..."

"Think!" Dean seethed.

"By the bathroom!" she gasped. "By the bathroom in the hallway there were lockers. Like school lockers. A whole row of them. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that's all I saw."

"When was it?" Sam pressed.

"W-what?"

"When do the things in your vision take place?" Sam elaborated. "You said you get glimpses of the psychic kids' futures, right? How far ahead do you see?"

"It varies. Sometimes minutes, hours, even weeks if I get a good lock. This was a couple of hours from now at most."

Dean swore out loud. "That means Tyler's there for at least a couple of hours but as soon as the boss finds this 'better place', they could be gone. And they're using him as their fucking punching bag. We need to find this place fast, Sammy. What do we have to go on? Abandoned, a school, probably still in California..."

Sam was already at the table pecking away at his laptop.

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

The air in the Impala was tense on the hour and a half drive. Not only was Reagan tied up and gagged in the back seat because they couldn't risk leaving her alone in the motel room, but Dean was not pleased that the building in the psychic's vision had turned out to be an old abandoned junior high school that had been relocated to a bigger facility when two districts were amalgamated - Harold J. Peterman Middle School, home of the Peterman Cheetahs - just a few miles from where Quinn and Jenna were right now.

"I knew we shouldn't have let them go off on their own," Dean growled, slamming his fist into the steering wheel and stepping harder on the gas. "If the demons have sniffed out your old motel room..."

"Dean, Quinn can handle herself."

"It's not Quinn they're after!"

It suddenly dawned on Sam that the reason Dean was all worked up was because he was worried about Jenna. Very worried actually – more than usual. He gave his brother a curious glance but let the question drop before it materialized, knowing he would be treading dangerously close to emo-territory if he asked what he wanted to ask. He had no doubts Dean had taken advantage of the close quarters he and Jenna had shared for three days and the pair had slept together. With Dean, that practically went without saying. But this seemed more than just a lay; Dean's protective instincts were on overdrive with this girl.

And the sentiments were even more obviously returned. Jenna didn't look at Dean the way most girls in bars did - like they wanted to crawl on top and ride him to the county fair – no, she had been giving him the _'completely smitten'_ look. She didn't just have a crush on Dean, she really cared about him.

Sam knew his brother well enough to know the cocky bragging and frequent one-night-stands were just a front he put on. He had always suspected Dean was gentle and affectionate when alone with women, despite his bravado and talk to the contrary. After all, Dean had to find tenderness and affection somewhere growing up and he sure as Hell wasn't getting it from their Dad.

"Look, we called them. They're laying low until we get there. They're fine," Sam assured him, hoping to appease the angry bear Dean became when people he cared about were in danger.

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

As it turned out, Sam was right and Quinn and Jenna were indeed fine. They were waiting for the Winchesters on the residential street next to the abandoned school, sitting in a parked sports car that had huge dents all up one side. Dean pulled the Impala over behind them. He sneered as they approached and the women got out of the Exige, the driver's gullwing door rattling and groaning as it was forced open past the obvious misalignment.

"What the fuck kind of car is that for a hunter?" he scoffed.

"The fast kind," Quinn retorted, earning a frown from Dean. He hadn't thought he'd said that loud enough to be heard. She popped the hood and started rummaging through her weapons stash.

"So what's the plan?" Jenna asked the brothers.

Dean shrugged. "We arm up, sneak in, grab Tyler, and get the Hell out of there."

Quinn looked up, sliding a Glock in her inside jacket pocket. "It's a big building. Do we know where he's being kept?"

"Not really," Sam answered. "Reagan thinks he's somewhere on the second floor."

"Okay, so we split up to search," she said, tucking a 9mm into the back of her pants and pulling a third gun out of her car.

"Better if we stick together," Dean argued, watching with amusement as Quinn tried to figure out which pocket to put the third gun in.

"Easier to stay under the radar if we split up."

"Easier to kick demon ass if we're watching each other's backs."

"Well we won't have to fight them if they never know we're here, will we?"

"Sam's not walking around alone in the middle of a nest of demons. They're after him, remember?"

"Whoa, I can take care of myself!" Sam cut in indignantly. "And Dean, Quinn's right."

Dean shot his brother a furious glare for once again siding with the annoying, mouthy piece of ass over his own brother. _What the hell was with that?_ The kid often disagreed with him when they were alone but they usually presented a united front when in company – they didn't undermine each other in front of other hunters, even if those hunters were hot chicks.

"I'm gonna stick with you," Jenna said to Quinn, tucking a flask of holy water in her own jacket pocket.

"Ohh, Jen..." Quinn winced. "You're not coming in."

Jenna scowled at her friend. "Yes I am," she insisted. "Tyler's my friend too."

"For once, I gotta agree with Bossy Boots here," Dean told the blonde. "The demons want to get their hands on you again too and we can't help Tyler if we're too busy trying to keep you safe."

"I can handle myself. Come on, I never slowed you down before, Dean."

"Jen, you're not coming in." Quinn's tone didn't leave any room for argument.

"We need you out here to keep an eye on Reagan," Dean added, trying to soften the blow. He had nothing but respect for the girl's bravery and abilities but she would be a liability all the same.

Jenna's lips pulled into a Sam-worthy pout but she didn't argue any further. After a couple more minutes of bickering between Dean and Quinn about the game plan, it was decided Sam would go in the back door on the west wing, Quinn the back door on the east wing, and Dean would take the side door into the gym.

Dean was rummaging through the Impala's weapon's compartment looking for his rosary with Sam standing next to him when he noticed the deep frown on his younger brother's face. "What?" he challenged. "I know this could be suicide but I'm not leaving Tyler so don't even go there."

Sam pulled a bitchface. "I wasn't going to suggest we abandon an innocent kid, Dean. You know me better than that."

"Then turn that frown upside-down, Sammy," Dean quipped, handing the taller hunter his usual sawed-off shotgun.

"I agree this could be a suicide mission though," Sam continued, his voice low. "So why are we leaving our best weapon outside?"

"Best weapon?"

"Jenna. I mean, she can pull demons and exorcize them with her mind and we're leaving her in the car?"

"Dude, she doesn't want to use her mojo. It's demon-related, remember?"

"She'd be using it _against_ demons!" Sam argued.

"It's too dangerous."

"It's too dangerous _**not**_ to use her!"

Dean slammed the trunk shut. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong? Without her, we're completely outmatched in there."

"Do you even hear yourself?"

"Dean, I get that you like her..."

"That has nothing to do with this! We're not asking her to use her mojo, you hear me? These psychic powers you guys have, they're not a good thing, Sam! You of all people should know that. You'd turn your visions off if you could, wouldn't you?"

"I don't like them but so far, we've saved people by using them. I could have saved Jessica if I'd..." He cut himself off and his lips drew in a tight line. "These abilities aren't all bad."

"They _**are**_ all bad!" Dean hissed. "Jenna sees that. Why can't you?" He moved away, putting an end to the disconcerting argument and pushing his disappointment in Sam's suggestion aside as Jenna approached. He pulled on a smile to greet her.

"So you gonna wait in your smashed-up tin can or in my classic beauty here?" he offered, tapping the roof of the Impala.

"I heard that!" Quinn called from over by the Exige.

Jenna laughed. "You know, you and Quinn might get along of you would stop antagonizing each other. If I'm supposed to be watching Reagan, I'll wait in your car." She peered into the back seat where their prisoner was sitting quietly. "She tied up tight?"

Dean leaned into the Impala to double-check Reagan's ropes. "She's secure," he assured Jenna, lifting an eyebrow as he surrepticiosuly watched a curious exchange between Sam and Quinn over by the other car.

"Be careful in there, Tiger," Quinn was saying quietly to the tall hunter, lifting a hand to rest on his arm. "Try keep that bullseye on your back out of sight, kay?"

Sam smiled down at her. "Is this your way of saying you're worried about me?" he teased. "Are you getting sentimental on me, Quinn?"

"Fuck you, Winchester," she grinned back before her face turned serious again. "Just be careful."

Dean cleared his throat and gave the signal to get going, taking the lead as the three of them moved across the street. The dark night gave them some semblance of cover as they stole across the grassy schoolyard and they could hear no raised alarms or signs that they had been spotted when they reached the building. Dean gave his brother a nod and a shoulder clap – the Winchester version of _'be careful, I love you'_ – before heading off towards his designated point of entry.

He made swift work prying the door open with an iron crowbar and slipped inside, hoping the loud crack hadn't alerted any demons of his presence. The gym was dark and empty so he made his way into the closest hallway and quickly found the stairs to the second floor. There wasn't much light coming from the single LED lamp on the floor of the long, empty corridor but it was enough to guide the hunter in its direction. The narrow windows in the classroom doors were emitting no light and the first couple of handles he tried were locked so he headed straight for the door by the lamp.

Just as he reached it, the door swung open and he suddenly found himself face to face with Righty.

_Oh crap._

He had to duck before he could even get a swing in. He avoided Righty's fist and returned the punch but it bounced off the demon's face barely making him flinch. Righty's next hit struck hard and Dean sailed across the hallway and slammed into the far wall. He let out a pained grunt and scrambled to his feet.

"Dean?" came a voice from the dimly lit room and then Tyler appeared in the doorway, looking dirty and scared.

Dean lunged at Righty, trying to haul him further out into the hallway to clear the way for the teenager. "Tyler, go!" he yelled, taking a hit in the gut as he grappled with the strong demon.

Tyler stepped out into the hallway only to be shoved roughly back into the room. Dean took a hit to the gut and dropped to his knees, winded and wheezing.

"I can't believe you're stupid enough to show up here, Winchester," Righty laughed. He hit the hunter in the face before turning and throwing a punch at Tyler, who had come up behind and attempted to kick the demon. Dean growled as he watched the kid hit the floor with a sharp cry but Righty's attention was back on the hunter before he could recover enough to protect himself. Righty's foot pulled back and Dean braced himself for the upcoming kick.

But it never came. Above him, Dean heard Righty stumble and fall into the doorframe and he heard Quinn's voice before he saw her. He looked up just in time to see her boot land in Righty's stomach and her knife being drawn. She was spouting Latin but nothing was happening. She slashed at the demon's wrist in an obvious attempt to break the binding mark but Righty had long sleeves so there was no way of knowing where the mark was.

The demon snarled and recovered his balance quickly, lashing out at Quinn and sending her crashing into the empty lockers against the wall. Dean took the opportunity to lunge at him, his own knife now drawn. He had debated shooting the demon but not only would that be just as unlikely to hit the binding mark, but it would also bring every other demon in the place running and with exorsism not an easy option, one at a time was enough.

The two hunters fought the demon hard, slashing at his arms and any other body parts they thought might house the mark, but found themselves hitting more walls than demon parts. Righty was strong and fast and was managing to hold his own against the humans. Dean couldn't help but be impressed with Quinn; she was capable, feisty, and relentless. And when they finally got the upper hand, he grudgingly admitted to himself they were working well together. He was cursing the pain his freshly bruised rib was sending stabbing through his body when he managed to sweep his leg under Righty, knocking the demon off his feet.

Quinn had Righty's shirt half ripped off and hooted in glee when the binding sigil was exposed just below his collarbone. Dean grabbed his knife off the floor and was grappling with Righty in an effort to slice through it when he heard a phone ring. He glanced up to see another demon at the end of the hallway, running towards them as she lifted her phone to her ear. It was Redhead, the bitch from the mansion.

"What?" she shouted into the phone, stopping abruptly. "Sam? Here?"

She turned on her heel and raced off in the other direction and Dean's heart twisted in a knot. Sure, it was good they didn't have to take on two demons at once but damnit, the demons had found Sam. And Sam was clearly the more valuable prize here. Sam was in danger.

That thought was reinforced when gunshots sounded in the distance.

"Fuck! Sam!" Dean seethed, the sudden rush of adrenaline allowing him to finally overpower Righty and slash the tattoo on his chest. Quinn was already chanting the exorcism and between the two of them, they held him down until the funnel of black smoke was expelled from his mouth.

"Get Tyler out of here!" Dean ordered Quinn as he staggered to his feet and started stumbling down the hall towards the stairs. It took him a few steps to steady himself but he pushed the pain aside with panicked thoughts about demons putting their hands on his little brother. Of demons forcing Sam to use his creepy mojo and upping his already disturbing freak quotient. That wasn't gonna happen - not on his watch.

It wasn't until he swung the stairwell door open that he realized Quinn and Tyler were right behind him. There was a door to the outside on the bottom landing and Dean kept going right past it but he heard Quinn talking urgently to Tyler as she shoved him out the door.

"Big black car on the side street. Jenna's there. Just run and don't stop 'til you get there. If the demons see you, tell Jenna to go. Got it? You two drive the fuck away. Now go!"

She was back on Dean's heels by the time he rounded the bend in the west hallway where Sam was supposed to enter the building. The hall was empty.

"Sam!" he shouted, heading towards the main office area. "Sam!" Quinn was right behind him and he turned to glance at her as he ran.

"You should have gone with Tyler," he snapped, worried about the teenager. What if he met demons outside?

"Your brother's in trouble," she fired back testily. "No way I'm leaving."

Dean didn't have time to reply before a man appeared up ahead and gunshots sounded. He recognized the man as the demon Lefty but suddenly bullets were bouncing off the lockers next to them and he had to duck. He scrambled to take cover in a doorway behind the wall of metal lockers taking the stray hits. Quinn was just a split second behind him and he crowded in to make room for her too. He drew his own Colt forty-five and fired blindly up the hallway.

"If you get 'em in the eyes, they smoke out," Quinn panted from in behind him.

Dean nodded. "Good to know," he acknowledged. "But since they've all got frigging binding marks..."

"They'll be trapped inside completely blind bodies," Quinn finished. "But uh, only if you can't..."

"...Do it without killing the meatsuit; I get it." Sam had mentioned Quinn's unease about shooting three possessed people during their altercations. Personally, Dean had agreed with her choice. He wouldn't have admitted it in front of the cocky female hunter that seemed to be making a deliberate effort to get under his skin, but he had agreed. Sam's life had been at stake and Dean had already shocked himself on more than one occasion with the lengths he would go to keep his brother safe.

He fired a few more random shots up the hallway and peered out to see if the coast was clear to advance. Lefty had moved out of sight around the corner and Dean could hear a commotion in that direction.

"Let's go," he barked, breaking cover and moving quickly down the hallway. The commotion got louder, shouts and curses in Sam's voice floating their way.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, barging through a set of double doors just in time to see his brother hit the wall courtesy of Keanu and Redhead.

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

Once inside the school, Sam hadn't even made it to the stairs before the demons spotted him. He had been walking softly past the teacher's lounge when a guy who looked exactly like the dude from the Matrix movies had emerged, letting out a startled cry at the sight of the hunter. Sam had started running but a second demon had cut him off and he had no choice but to fight his way free.

He had seen one make a phone call, shouting into the phone that they had '_THE'_ Sam Winchester and had used the distraction to draw his gun, firing it at the legs of the demon that had a hold of him. The demon snarled and stumbled but recovered quickly and wrenched the gun free. A few seconds later a third demon showed up, a female redhead, and Sam lost any hope of breaking free.

Then he heard Dean's voice, shouting his name and the demon with the gun had charged away through a set of double doors in that direction. A series of gunshots followed and Sam's heart twisted in fear for his brother. He heard Dean's .45 firing back and soon the demon with the gun was back.

"No!" Sam panicked and lunged at Keanu. The redhead stepped in and within seconds, he was being punched and thrown across the room into the wall.

He looked up to see Dean storm in, eyes wide with rage and worry. It didn't take the elder Winchester's hunter instincts more than a couple of seconds to assess and react. First thing Dean did was shoot four rounds right into the face of the same demon Sam had aimed for the legs on just a moment earlier.

Quinn was right behind Dean and she immediately headed over towards the downed hunter, raising her gun towards Keanu and the redhead. She fired repeatedly but didn't have a clean line to their faces so they flinched but didn't go down. Keanu lunged forward. She ducked his first hit but his second struck her hard and sent her tumbling backwards onto the floor.

The next minute happened so fast Sam's head was practically spinning. The demon with the gun was writhing on the floor screaming so Sam dismissed him as a threat. Dean launched himself at the Redhead and started raining furious blows on her face. That left Keanu, who had Quinn down and was about to plant a kick in her side. Sam pushed his feet under himself and tackled him.

The fight was so intense, Sam lost track of Quinn and his brother and how many hard hits the frigging 'demon Neo' had landed on him. He eventually got in a lucky swing with a stray two-by-four and looked up to see Quinn had just finished drawing a large devil's trap on the vinyl flooring. He kicked the downed demon and shoved him roughly into the circle before starting towards Dean to help do the same with the feisty redhead.

Dean had already seized the opportunity and landed a hard punch that sent the demon reeling backwards into the trap. "You bitch," he cursed, leaning over to plant his hands on his knees, panting heavily.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked him, also panting and the brothers' eyes locked on one another.

Dean grinned and Sam couldn't help but return the gesture. It was a surreal moment that sort of hung there in the air, the two of them smiling at each other like they'd just hustled a good game of pool, two trapped demons scowling in between them.

"Alright, let's send these pricks back to Hell and get out of here," Dean said, straightening up.

"What about Tyler?" Sam questioned, throwing a glance at Quinn to make sure she was alright also. She was quiet and standing back but seemed fine.

"Waiting in the car," Dean assured him, already moving towards Lefty. He hauled up the bloody demon's sleeves and found the mark he was looking for. One slice with his knife and he turned towards the two in the devil's trap.

Sam stepped forward to help and between the two brothers, they managed to expose the binding marks on both demons and slice through them. Keanu had it on his upper arm and Redhead on her wrist. Dean gestured for Sam to perform the exorcism and Sam frowned, frustrated his brother hadn't managed to memorize one yet, but complied.

Three jets of black smoke were soon streaming out of the demons and sinking into the floor in the devil's trap. Sam knew right away all three meatsuits were dead and breathed a sigh of sympathy before relief set in. "Is that them all?" he ventured.

Dean shrugged. "Hope so. But just in case, let's get the hell out of Dodge."

"Sam?"

He wasn't sure if it was her use of his first name or the unfamiliar vulnerability in her voice that caught his attention, but Sam's heart skipped a beat as he spun to face Quinn. She was standing a dozen feet away, swaying slightly with one hand tucked inside her jacket. He gave her a questioning look but was already moving towards her, closing the gap in three long strides.

She didn't resist as he pulled her jacket open to see a dark, wet stain on her side surrounding her hand, liquid oozing out between her fingers.

"Shit, Quinn!" he gasped, clutching her shoulder to steady her.

She nodded, leaning heavily on him. "Fucker shot me," she breathed. "Out in the hallway." With that, her knees gave out and she started to drop. Sam lunged forward and caught her as she fell.

"Quinn!"

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

_**Author's Note: **Just a heads up this story is nearing it's end. A major turn or two to come before I wrap it up but I am figuring one more chapter and an Epilogue. I really appreciate those who have read, alerted, fave'd, and reviewed. As you all know, that's what inspires and keeps me plugging away so thank-you!_


	13. When the Dust Settles

_**Previously:**__ The hunters harass Reagan to find out where Tyler is being kept and she finally finds him in an abandoned school. Jenna is made to stay in the car with their prisoner while Dean, Sam, and Quinn go in to try and rescue Tyler. Dean finds him and he and Quinn take out the demon guard but Sam runs into more demons downstairs. Dean and Quinn come charging in and between the three of them, they manage to take the demons out only to find out Quinn has been shot by Lefty, the demon with the gun. She collapses and Sam catches her._

**CHAPTER 13 – When the Dust Settles**

Sam scooped Quinn up in his arms and threw his brother a frantic, panicked glance. Dean simply nodded and started moving towards the door. "Let's get her out of here," he said gravely.

They made it down the long hallway unhindered, to the side door facing the street where the cars were parked. Dean kept his pace a few steps in front of Sam and was about to push the door open when he stopped abruptly. "Crap."

Sam followed his gaze out through the windows to the dark schoolyard and saw the shadows of two men approaching. The brothers could only assume they were demons.

Dean was immediately ushering him back into the hallway. "We'll take the back door," he said briskly. They couldn't fight two more demons, especially with one man down - or woman. Dean had Sam's shotgun in his grasp and moved behind his brother now, between Sam and the demons. "She doin' alright?" he added as he urged the taller hunter faster.

Sam spared a glance down at Quinn in his arms, who had her eyes open and head resting against his shoulder, one hand still clamped firmly over the wound in her side. She was quiet and complacent, sure signs she was weak and hurting.

"M'alright," she mumbled faintly as they ran.

They made it to the back stairwell before the two demons came in the side door, preventing them from being seen. The stairwell was the same one with the door Quinn had sent Tyler out earlier and for a moment Sam thought they were home free. Then suddenly there was a shout and a demon was charging at him with a drawn fist.

Sam had his hands full of injured hunter but Dean intercepted, barreling into the demon and knocking him off his attack path before he reached the younger Winchester and Quinn. Dean and the demon both went sprawling to the floor in a flailing heap of punches and kicks.

"Get her out of here; I got this!" Dean barked, rolling himself free just enough to rise to his knees and aim a punch at the demon's face. "Go!"

Sam gave his brother a quick nod and made his way out the door, pride and fear for Dean swelling inside as he left him behind. It occurred to Sam he didn't give his brother nearly enough credit and certainly didn't tell him often enough how much respect he had for him. The guy was the very definition of a hero, risking his life for others without ever thinking twice, this time for a woman he could barely stand to be in the same room with.

The air outside was cool but the moon was bright and Sam quickly oriented himself enough to figure out the side street with the cars was to his right. He headed that way quickly, uttering words of assurance to Quinn, whose head was now lolling on his chest. He made his way along the side of the building until he could see the Impala and the Exige in the quiet street. Jenna was standing near it with a man next to her, presumably Tyler, both lurking in the cover of a large tree. Their eyes were currently glued to the side door where Sam and Dean had seen the demons approaching a moment ago.

He started out across the open grass hoping like Hell Dean would be right behind him. Jenna turned her head and upon spotting him carrying Quinn, immediately started running towards them. Sam noticed two vehicles suddenly pull up behind the hunters' cars, people spilling out of them. The hunter came to a halt with a strangled gasp.

_Crap, more demons!_

Unsure of which way to go now, he watched despondently as the half-dozen or so men opened the Impala back door and dragged Reagan out, her hands still bound. It was too dark to see their eyes and they were too far for Sam to hear their words, but all reason pointed to them being demons. Jenna was halfway to him, her eyes fixed on Quinn and seemingly quite oblivious to what was going on in the street. Tyler was twenty feet behind her, chancing the occasional nervous glance backwards.

Sam took a hesitant step backwards. What was he supposed to do now? There were six demons coming around the Impala and heading their way. He had only made it a few feet back towards the building by the time Jenna reached him.

"Oh my God, Quinn, what happened? What happened?" She looked up at Sam, her eyes frantic. "What happened?"

"Shot," Sam answered breathlessly, hoisting Quinn a bit farther up as he glanced around to see the demons striding menacingly towards them. "Come on, back this way!"

They had barely made it a few paces when more people appeared from around the front of the building. Sam's heart sank by the time the eighth came around the corner – and they were still coming.

They were screwed. They had no chance of escaping this many demons. Sam, Jenna, and Tyler would be captured alive to be used for their psychic abilities but Quinn... damnit, Quinn would die. If they didn't kill her, she'd be left to bleed out here in the schoolyard.

"They're everywhere!" Tyler breathed, fear evident in his young voice as he looked around wildly.

Jenna seemed too focused on Quinn to even notice. She was moving next to Sam with her hand wrapped in Quinn's sleeve, the other clasping a sawed-off shotgun. "Quinn," she whispered, blatant worry spilling out of her.

"I'm alright, Jen," Quinn managed, her voice weak and breathy.

Sam was touched by the obvious closeness the two women shared and the blind concern Jenna was demonstrating but they needed to run. He started towards the back of the schoolyard. "Come on," he urged.

"Wait, where's Dean?" Tyler asked suddenly.

"Inside," Sam answered tersely, wondering how many of these demons Jenna could take out with her mojo if it came down to it. He had never seen her do it but the notion fascinated him. Of course, he would still have to slice any binding marks they might have... that could be problematic.

"What?" Jenna gasped. "Inside?"

Sam kept moving, picking up the pace but he knew it was futile. There was no way they could outrun this many demons and he definitely couldn't fight them all. Demons were between them and the cars and between them and the building and... and Quinn was bleeding in his arms and his brother was God knows where... _fuck! _

Jenna tightened her grip on the shotgun she held. "I'm gonna run to the building, head them off," she said. "They're still after me right? The ones I don't manage to shoot might follow me in."

"_No_," Quinn said, her voice barely audible and little more than a whisper breathed into Sam's neck. "_No_."

"No," Sam said more loudly. "Just keep moving."

"I'll go with you," Tyler was now saying. Jenna had clearly given him one of Quinn's shotguns upon his arrival at the car for he held one in his hands that Sam didn't recognize. Sam couldn't help but notice he held it without the ease or familiarity of someone who was trained in its use and wondered if the kid had ever even fired one before.

He was annoyed the pair weren't listening to him and contemplating doing something incredibly stupid, even if it was admirably brave. "Keep moving!" he repeated with more authority. "Head for that road."

He was referring to the street on the far side of the school's soccer field, which might as well have been a mile away with twenty or so demons hot on their tail. They were moving as fast as they could when Tyler suddenly shouted excitedly.

"They're fighting!"

"What?" Sam turned his head enough to get a look at the demons behind him.

The second group that had come around the front of the building hadn't joined in the pursuit of the fleeing humans as expected. Instead, they had charged towards the first group of demons, cutting them off and the whole pile of them were now pretty much brawling by the side of the school.

_They were fighting each other._

"What the hell?" Sam stammered, staggering a couple of steps out of surprise and the weight of the woman in his arms that his biceps were starting to feel acutely. Any scrap of doubt he had that these people were demons was erased when a slim woman threw a much larger man twenty feet through the air to land against the concrete base of a flagpole.

He shelved his shock at the fortunate turn of events and kept running. "Let's go! Keep going!" he commanded Jenna and Tyler, who thankfully obeyed.

They were almost all the way across the field when Sam noticed a parked minivan and ordered them to head for it.

"What about Dean?" Tyler repeated.

"Yeah, we can't just leave him," Jenna added.

Sam was moved at the pair's unusual level of loyalty to his brother. He more than anyone wanted to know where Dean was and if he was alright but Quinn was badly hurt and the demons wanted the other three of them for nefarious purposes and Dean would want him to get them to safety. The people they protected always came first; that was an unspoken rule.

"Just get to the minivan."

"But..." Tyler started.

"Just get to the minivan!"

He would get them away then come back for Dean, even if there were a hundred demons in his way.

They reached the minivan and Jenna broke the driver's window with a few hard hits using the butt of her shotgun. She opened the sliding door for Sam and he lowered Quinn onto the back seat. The wounded hunter's eyes were closed and her body limp.

"Is she okay?" Jenna asked, ducking herself under Sam's large frame to reach her friend.

"Keep pressure on that wound," Sam instructed her, his heart skipping a beat at how pale Quinn looked. He lifted two fingers to press against Quinn's neck, the other cupping her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open briefly and a weak smile tugged at her lips. "Sorry to be so much trouble, Tiger," she breathed.

"Not at all." He returned the smile and pulled back to let Jenna climb all the way in next to Quinn. "Just hang in there."

He moved around to the driver's side so he could hotwire the vehicle and stole a glance back at the school. A couple of the demons had broken loose from the melee and headed towards them but they, too had been intercepted by other demons and were now locked in fierce fistfights in the middle of the soccer field. This was fucked up.

He yanked the cover off the ignition wires beneath the steering wheel. "Tyler, can you drive this?" he asked, realizing he had done his duty of getting them to safety and could send them on their way while he went back for Dean.

"Yeah, my mom has a minivan," the kid replied from where he was sitting in the passenger seat.

Sam felt a stab of guilt at the innocence of the statement, of the image it presented of this teenager with the normal life and the soccer mom that he would never be able to go home to because he would forever be on the run from demons.

"I need you to get Quinn to the hospital," he told the teen. "Can you do that?"

"What are you gonna do?" Tyler questioned just as the engine roared into life.

"I'm going after..."

"Dean!" came a cry from the back seat.

"Yeah, I'm going back for..." Sam followed Jenna's gaze back across the schoolyard to see his brother, running full tilt across the grass towards them. "Dean!"

Within seconds, Sam had the minivan bouncing over the grass towards the fleeing hunter. He pulled to halt just in front of Dean and Jenna slid the back door open to let him in. Dean had blood on his face and was breathing hard as he jumped in and slammed the door closed behind him.

Sam's heart untwisted from the tight knot it was in, immense relief flooding through him and he stepped on the gas.

"What the fuck is going on with the demons?" Dean panted, not waiting for an answer before turning to Jenna and Quinn. "Damn, she okay?" His concern sounded genuine.

Sam twisted his head around to see Quinn's eyes were closed again and his worry spiked once more.

"I dunno," Jenna said, her voice quivering and her hand still pressed against Quinn's bloody side. "It looks bad. We need to get to a hospital."

Dean nodded. "Okay, we will. Don't worry, Jen; she'll be fine." He turned to Sam. "Dude, drop me off at the Impala."

"What? Dean, no! Let's just get out of here." Sam was incredulous.

"No frigging way. There's bodies everywhere and my Baby's parked a hundred feet away from it all. The demons are too busy kicking each other's asses to notice me so just stop for a second and I'll follow you guys to the hospital."

Sam knew better than to argue when it came to the Impala. His brother's love affair with that old car had started before Sam had even been born and Sam figured he would never fully understand it. He drove around to the side of the building and pulled up next to the black Chevy, stopping just long enough for his brother to hop out.

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

Two hours later found the Winchesters, Jenna, and Tyler camped out in an L.A. hospital's Maternity Wing waiting room, making frequent but cautious trips down to the trauma ward to check on Quinn's status. She had been taken in for surgery immediately upon arrival and Jenna had filled out the fake paperwork, listing herself as a sister-in-law and claiming the two women had been mugged in a dark street and that Quinn had been shot for fighting back.

Jenna and Sam had both refused to leave the hospital despite the risk of demons thinking to look for them there, so Dean had decided they would be safer waiting in the Maternity wing, just in case. Surely demons wouldn't consider looking for them there. Jenna's refusal to leave her friend had been expected but the extent of Sam's worry had been a surprise. Dean began to think perhaps a little more had gone on between the pair than he had originally thought but... _nah_. Quinn wasn't Sam's type. He liked soft and sweet and… Jessica came to mind… definitely not a hard core hunter like Quinn.

Dean had to admit, however, that despite the fact that she pushed every one of his buttons, he had a tremendous respect for Quinn after the events of this night. She had been shot in the hallway but hadn't even flinched and had kept going without so much as a whimper until the job was done and the demons were exorcized. And she had refused to leave Sam in trouble. Dean would always appreciate that. Also... and this one made him curious... she seemed to make Sam smile. That didn't happen much these days.

"Think the demons will still be looking for us?" Sam asked, speaking quietly so only his brother could hear.

"I don't know, man. I think I figured out what was happening at the school though."

"What, with the demons fighting demons?" Sam's forehead creased in concentration. "I've been too worried about Quinn to give it much thought until now," he admitted. "But it was messed up."

"I saw Yellow Eyes," Dean blurted.

"What?" Sam's eyes widened in shock and the pitch of his voice rose. "And you're just telling me this now?"

Dean shrugged. "Not much we could do at the time."

"We could have ended this!" Sam fired back. "Once and for all!"

Dean frowned. "Yeah, coz we were in such a good position to take on the big-bad of demons," he sneered. "No Colt, remember? No devil's traps, a couple of salt rounds at most, twenty other demons all trying to get a piece of us…"

"We had one thing."

"Don't even fucking suggest what I think you're about to suggest," Dean snarled angrily. "Jenna's not a weapon."

Sam's lips pulled into a tight line. "You're right," he said after a long pause. "It's just, Yellow Eyes killed Jessica, Dean. He killed Mom. He killed Dad. He almost killed you. He says he has plans for me that we both know aren't good."

"I know," Dean acknowledged. "I know." He gestured towards Jenna and Tyler, who were over by the vending machine, Tyler watching with fascination while Jenna showed him how to pick the lock. "But protecting the innocent comes before revenge, Sammy. It has to or we're no better than Gordon Walker."

Sam nodded again. "Yeah, I get that. But they're not gonna really be safe until we kill Yellow Eyes." He sighed. "Let's get Quinn patched up and these guys to safety and then we'll try pick up his trail. Are you sure it was Yellow Eyes?"

After Dean had jumped out of the minivan and into the driver's seat of the Impala, he had seen a lone demon as he pulled away. This demon was an older man – pushing fifty – and was standing on the sidewalk, strange in his calmness. He had just stood there, watching the minivan and then watching Dean as he drove past, a creepy, smug smirk on his face. Then his eyes had flashed yellow. "It was him," he said with confidence.

"So what's your theory on the crazy at the school?"

Dean explained all he had learned during his time of captivity that led him to believe there were two opposing groups of demons. First were the Yellow-Eyed demon's followers, who made up the majority of demons. Yellow-Eyes had 'created' the psychic kids for some big scheme and the bulk of demons were supporters of that plan. Then there were the 'rebels', the demons that had kidnapped Jenna and Tyler and the rest. They had essentially stolen Yellow Eyes's psychic kids and were using them against him. They didn't want Yellow Eyes to find out what they were up to, however and their boss was taking great care to fly well under the radar.

"So the second group of demons that showed up was Yellow Eyes and his minions," Sam figured out. "Making sure we got away so we were free for him to use for his own purposes later."

"Yeah that about sums it up."

"And you think they got Reagan?"

"Hope so or our rebel pals will be able to find you again."

Sam groaned. "Our lives suck."

Dean snorted. "Tell me about it."

Jenna came up to stand before them. "Hey, Dean," she smiled down at him. "You mind coming back down to trauma with me? See if there's any word on Quinn yet?"

"Sure." Dean rose to his feet right away. He had forbidden her to go alone and was thankful she wasn't giving him a hard time over the order. That and he enjoyed her company. And with all the kidnapping and running through the woods and hospital visits, he had only shared one kiss with her - he was kind of hoping for more.

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

Quinn survived. In fact, she came through surgery with flying colors and the doctor was extremely pleased. Dr. Monica Grant informed Jenna the wound was clean and the bullet hadn't hit any vital organs and that Quinn would be up an about in a matter of days. Naturally she suggested her patient stay at the hospital for a few days at least, which was heard by the hunters as _'one day tops and we can get out of here'_.

Sam spent much of the next twenty-four hours in Quinn's room, keeping guard for demons as well as assuring himself she was indeed alright. Jenna was there for much of the time also, her mood and cheerfulness improving on par with Quinn's strength. Quinn had argued to leave five minutes after she had woken up from the anesthesia but between Sam, Jenna, and the painkillers, she had been convinced to wait until she could at least walk.

Dean and Tyler came in from time to time but didn't want to crowd the patient so limited their 'visits'. As Quinn became more alert, the bickering between her and Dean returned but was only surface deep and had lost any real bite. There was no trace of the outright rivalry or the antagonism, much to Sam's relief.

Quinn was sleeping while Sam sat quietly in an uncomfortable plastic chair, Jenna curled up in another chair next to him, her legs up over the sidearm. Dean had taken Tyler for a 'walk-a-bout', which had been cover for having the conversation about the teen not going home for a while. It had been obvious to all that the kid had a bit of hero-worship going on where Dean was concerned so the elder Winchester had offered to deliver the unpleasant news himself.

Sam was snapped out of his deep thoughts by an alarming statement from Jenna.

"Reagan said our futures are pretty shitty, me and you."

"What do you mean?"

"In the car, while you guys were in the school. She said she'd get the last laugh. She can only see glimpses of the freaks like us so she couldn't see Quinn and Dean but…"

"We're not freaks," Sam cut her off, instinctively using the line his brother was always using on him.

She laughed softly. "Yeah, I almost believe that sometimes too." She glanced fondly at the sleeping woman in the bed next to them. "Quinn can be convincing sometimes. She really doesn't seem to care that I'm a freak. I can almost forget it when I'm around her." She smiled at Sam. "And Dean. You know, besides Jason and Quinn, he's the first person that knows about my thing that doesn't make me feel like there's something wrong with me."

Sam nodded in understanding. He knew Dean would always have his back no matter what – despite John Winchester's dying order to save him or kill him. And Quinn had never wavered in her support despite her discovery that Sam got death visions. "So what did Reagan say happens to us?" he pressed.

Jenna shrugged. "She wouldn't give me particulars, but she said it was a little ways down the road. She said…" The blonde pursed her lips and paused. "I don't want to worry you but … but if you know maybe you can make sure…"

"Just tell me," Sam urged.

"She said you're gonna die and I'm gonna wish I died."

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

Quinn could indeed be quite convincing when she wanted something. Sam had tried to coax her back into the bed, urge her to give it until later that night so that most of the staff would be gone before they slipped her out of the hospital, but she pretty much ignored him. She batted his helping hand away and stood swaying on her feet for a full minute as proof she was ready to go, her face set in a challenging frown.

"Is she faking it?" Sam asked Tyler, who grinned and reached out to touch Quinn's arm.

"Uhh, no," Tyler replied, suddenly hesitant. "She's good to go."

Sam figured his answer was influenced more by the thoughts accompanying the threatening scowl she aimed at the teenager than the real truth, but agreed to go round up Dean and Jenna all the same.

He searched the floor and was just starting to get worried when he finally found them. He stuck his head into the quiet hospital chapel and groaned when he saw his brother in the midst of a steamy make-out session with the blonde on the front pew. He cleared his throat, politely averting his eyes when they pulled apart and Jenna hastily straightened her top.

"Uh, Quinn's up and she really wants to leave now," Sam told them.

Flustered and blushing, Jenna got to her feet. "Uh, I'll go talk to her," she said, sounding breathless. She slipped sheepishly past Sam and out into the hall.

"Dude," Sam chastised his brother, who was leaning back in the pew with a shameless grin on his face, clearly giving himself a moment to 'recompose'. "Making out in a chapel, Dean? Really?"

Dean snorted. "Don't act so surprised. It's not like it's the first time I've gotten some in a church."

"Last time Pastor Jim caught you and you got put on janitor duty for a month."

"Worth every minute, Sammy. See, some of us red-blooded males like to, you know, actually touch a woman. Unlike you who spends three days with a super hot one and doesn't seal the deal."

Sam frowned, his brother's attitude and antics annoying him as usual. "Why do you automatically assume I never slept with Quinn?"

Dean laughed as he got to his feet, adjusting his jeans slightly. "Coz she's outta your league. She is bad-ass. She would eat you alive." His lips curled up into a lopsided grin. "Bet she's a wildcat in the sack."

"Dean!" Sam rolled his eyes, not letting on that his brother was right and that Sam had first-hand knowledge of just how much of a wildcat Quinn was. Of course, he was more than certain he had held his own that night. "What are you, in junior high?"

Dean ignored him and kept teasing. "Know how else I know?"

Sam just groaned.

"Coz I only got to first base," Dean continued as they walked down the hall. "No way I only get to first base and you get a home run. That's just a law of nature, Sasquatch."

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

Quinn didn't make it out of the hospital on her own two feet but the hunters still slipped out without incident. Their radio scanner and news broadcasts divulged that the Exige had been confiscated by the authorities and Talise Everett Quinn was now wanted by the State Police for questioning in connection with some bodies found at an abandoned school in Burbank.

"Welcome to the club," Dean commiserated after her stream of expletives had finally died down. Sam realized her anger was probably more to do with losing the Exige, one of her last connections with Jason Harrison, than the burning of her real ID. That was to be expected as part of the life of a hunter.

Seated between Jenna and Tyler in the crowded car, Quinn passed out during the long drive to Nevada, where the brothers checked into a low-rent motel. Sam got one room for them all, not wanting to leave either of the women or Tyler unprotected for now – just in case.

The next two days were spent watching TV, eating take-out, and playing cards while Quinn healed enough to get mobile. Tyler had been upset at not being able to call his parents; after all, he'd already been missing over a month and they would be starting to think the worst by now. Dean assured him that they would eventually figure out a way to get word to them that their son was still alive without alerting the demons.

Having already sent Chelsea to the Roadhouse, Dean had thought maybe Bobby would be able to take Tyler in but Quinn quickly offered to take the teenager with her and Jenna and Tyler enthusiastically agreed. Although Jenna had wanted to stick with the Winchesters and take the demons head on, both Quinn and Dean were adamantly against it.

It was finally decided Quinn was well enough for the hunters to go their separate ways. Dean had picked up an old Chevy Suburban with money Quinn had given him and was outside the motel topping up the fluids when the brunette came out to stand next to him.

"Sure I can't convince you guys to come with us?" she offered. "No shame in tucking tail and running, you know. Not from this."

Dean closed the hood and turned towards her. "It ain't that," he sighed. "Honestly, I would. I wanted to. Tried to convince Sam but…"

"But your little brother's a stubborn son of a bitch," she finished with a fond smile.

Dean chuckled. "Oh, you've met him?"

"Yeah, you could say that," she smirked, making Dean wonder again about the two of them.

Pushing his curiosity aside he leaned against the hood of the Suburban. "Listen," he said seriously, "Take care of Jenna, 'kay?"

"With everything I've got."

"And Tyler," he added. "I kinda like that kid."

She nodded. "With everything I've got," she promised.

They stood there for a minute watching the people coming and going from the gas station across the street before Dean spoke up. "So where you guys gonna go?"

"Not sure," she shrugged. "Somewhere the demons will never find us." She pulled one of the small hex bags out her pocket. "I couldn't convince your brother to hang onto one of these."

"You've only got two left," Dean pointed out. "Jenna and Tyler should have them."

"And Sam?" Her deep concern was obvious.

"Don't worry about Sam. He's got me." He looked over at Quinn. "With everything I've got."

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

_**Author's Note:**__ I know this seems like the end but things aren't going to leave off quite that happily for the gang. One more chapter to go that has a lot of answers in it and a twist or two and I'm pretty excited about (it's actually the reason this fic was born). I hope to have it up tomorrow. Please let me know what you're thinking – feedback means the world to me and is always appreciated._


	14. Epilogue

_**Author's note:** This is the last chapter. A big thanks so much to all of you who read, alerted, favorited, and reviewed. It really makes my day every time someone lets me know they're reading and makes all the hard work that goes into these things worth it. I really can't express how much it means (though if you're a fellow fanfic author, you'll get it, lol). You guys are the best!_

**CHAPTER 14 – Epilogue**

_**Three and a half months later...**_

Dean couldn't stop stealing glances over at his brother sitting in the passenger seat... frowning, pouting, fucking_ breathing_. Three days ago he had been sitting staring at Sammy's cold, still, lifeless body. Then he'd made that deal...

"Take a picture, Dean."

Dean cleared his throat and reached forward to turn on the radio. "So no mention of Jenna or Tyler, huh?" he asked for the third time, as much out of genuine worry as an effort to change the subject.

"No," Sam assured him. "I asked all the psychic kids there and none of them had heard of either of them. They got Chelsea from the Road House..."

"And burned it down in the process," Dean cut in with a snarl.

"Well, even with Ellen's training, Chelsea got killed before I even got there. Ava admitted to it. But no Jenna and no Tyler."

"Think they managed to stay off Yellow-Eyes' radar? Maybe miss the psychic kid round-up?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, man. Their phones were disconnected over two months ago and they haven't contacted us since. I know they were going to lay low but they said they would stay in touch. Doesn't bode well."

"You said Quinn was good." Dean was trying to sound hopeful. "Maybe she's so good, even we can't find them."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam didn't look convinced. They both sat in silence, lost in their own worries for their friends for a long moment before Sam's eyes suddenly widened and he gasped. "Oh, crap!" he said.

"What? What?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Huh, it's just something Jenna told me. I didn't mention it to you because it... well I didn't want you to worry."

"Spit it out."

"Reagan told her she had seen our futures."

"Me and you?"

"No, me and Jenna. Reagan could only see us psychic kids, remember?"

"So what did she see?"

"She said I was going to die. I hadn't thought about it much because I figured Reagan was probably just bluffing but Dean, I _**did**_ die."

"Don't remind me." Dean's stomach did a somersault at the way-too-fresh memory of his brother gasping his last breath in his arms. "So what did she see for Jenna? Does she die too?"

The younger Winchester winced. "No. It's kind of worse. She said Jenna would just wish she was dead."

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

Jenna clawed at the strong hand tilting her chin up as she coughed and sputtered past the thick, warm liquid being forced down her throat. Every time she tried to spit it up, the demon's free hand would land a solid blow in her stomach and the choking would start over again a second or two later as her reflexes automatically tried to suck in a mouthful of air.

"Why do you always have to do this the hard way?" the demon growled angrily. "We've been doing this dance for two months now. It always ends up with you one pint of demon-blood richer and us with one more pal topside. Just stop fighting us."

"F-f-fuck you, Cole," she sputtered, spitting a mouthful of red into the demon's face.

"God Damnit!" he cursed, releasing her face and cuffing her on the side of the head hard enough to knock her to the ground. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the door of the room she was in and the demon smirked down at her. "You'll play ball tonight, bitch. The boss is coming."

Jenna's eyes widened noticeably in fear and she instinctively placed her right hand over the empty space between the ring and index fingers of her left hand. Her middle digit had been the unfortunate winner of a cruel game of eenie-meenie-miney-mo the last time 'the boss' had asked her to bring a demon topside and she had refused.

The door swung open and slammed against the concrete wall next to it before she could finish scrambling to her feet. The demon strode a few paces into the room and stopped. He was possessing the same man he had inhabited the last few times she had met him. Early forties, decent looking, nicely dressed, dark hair, English accent, and a deep gravelly voice that would actually be sexy had it not belonged to a sadistic bastard intent on becoming King of Hell. He sized up the situation quickly, narrowing his eyes at the near-full jar of red liquid in his minion's grasp and the still un-possessed meatsuit gagged and tied to a chair in the corner.

"Jenna, my dear," he clucked. "Miss me?"

Jenna tried to put on a brave face. "I'm not doing it again, Crowley."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm afraid you're wrong there, love. You will do it again. In fact, I'm going to be needing you to pick up the pace. See, Azazel's bloody plan is in full swing now and a couple of hundred demons on his side just got brought topside courtesy of your old friends, the Winchesters."

Her head snapped up at the mention of Sam and Dean. "They wouldn't!" she gasped.

"Oh but they did. Mince for brains, the pair of them. I am so glad I decided they were more trouble than they were worth this time round. It was making a play for the Winchester Moose that brought that yellow-eyed brown-noser down on my last operation. So that just leaves me with you and the little mind-reader this time. And with Azazel's side now two hundred stronger, I need to even the playing field, and fast."

Jenna shook her head. "I'm not bringing any more demons up."

Crowley made a noise that sounded a lot like a growl. Jenna had figured out he liked the sound of his own voice and at least when he was talking, he wasn't cutting or slicing so she quickly dialed back the defiance and tried to steer the conversation to something less likely to cost her any more fingers.

"What happened to Sam and Dean?"

"Once-dead and soon-to-be dead, I'm afraid. I have to hand it to them, they managed to put a bullet in Azazel's skull in the process but that doesn't matter anymore since fucking Lilith is topside and she's much, much worse."

"Th-they're dead?"

"Unfortunately for them, no. See, I came across a juicy morsel of information even Azazel doesn't know yet. Turns out neither of the Winchesters are run of the mill humans. They just happen to be the preferred choice of celestial tea cozies to the two biggest assholes ever to exist. Flesh-puppets for the fight to end all fights. Tainted blood, you see, just like yours love."

"Dean's human," Jenna argued. "He's normal."

Crowley snorted. "The man eats cheeseburgers like they're going out of style, the only workout he ever does is the horizontal kind, yet he still manages to look like a freaking underwear model. Does that seem normal to you? Even Azazel never figured out Dean's full role in all this. That fool thinks it's over as soon as one of the righteous squad cries uncle downstairs." He tilted his head and gave her a cocky smirk. "There are always two, you see. You lot come in pairs. Oh, some of the pairs may not know each other, like John Winchester and his counterpart, that simpering Nick guy in Ohio. But see, that's what moves you and G.I. Jane up the ranks, you being so cozy with each other. And Sam and Dean? Well they're ridiculously codependent and then some, so don't worry, the Winchesters are far more special than you and Talise because they're first in line. You ladies are middle of the pack. Maybe ninth or tenth choice. So not all that special, really. Not special enough for the cloud hoppers to come looking for you, at any rate."

Jenna tried to follow what the demon was rambling about but not much of it made sense. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "In line for what? Chosen for what?"

"Oh don't worry. Not a lottery you'd want to win, love. Better them than you, trust me." He wagged his finger at her. "Especially you. You're the dark half." He clapped his hands. "But I digress. Where were we? Oh yes." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Here's the name. Bring him topside."

She swallowed but made no move to take the paper from his hand. "No. No more. I can't keep doing this."

"You will and you know it." He moved to retrieve the jar of blood from the table and brought it over to her, stepping inside the circular symbol she had learned was a devil's gate, put there to make it easier for her to bring Hell's residents topside. He held it out to her with the paper.

Jenna shook her head, trying to keep her hands from trembling too visibly. He was going to get mad and he was absolutely terrifying when he got mad. Not to mention spontaneously violent.

"No," she said. "You may as well kill me coz I'm not doing it anymore."

"Don't tempt me." He waved a hand at Cole, who immediately nodded and left the room.

"Where's he going?" she asked fearfully, her voice hitching half way through. _No, they couldn't still have..._

Crowley didn't answer her question. Instead he stepped up to stand next to her, right in her personal space. "Do you know what's become of Azazel's little psychic club?" he practically purred, his breath hot on her cheek. "They're all dead."

She let out an audible gasp and he laughed.

"Dear old Yellow-Eyes threw them all in the ring and had them fight to the death. Last one standing gets to be his little puppet. But don't worry, that last one standing was Sam Winchester. So you see, if I hadn't caught up with you and Freckle-boy Tyler, Azazel would have got his hands on you and you would have been dead already."

Jenna hadn't heard a thing past 'Sam Winchester'. "Sam wouldn't have…"

His mocking laugh was brimming with sadistic pleasure. "You really don't think Sam would have spared you, do you? What part of 'fight to the death' did you not understand? He won. What does that say about him?"

"Sam would never have killed anyone unless they were evil." She had to believe that. Crowley was toying with her.

"Don't be so bloody naïve." He shoved the jar of blood into her right hand and folded her fingers around it. "Get on with it. This one's pretty deep so it'll be a tough one. You'll need the extra vitamins." He gave her a smug smile and a knowing wink. "Come on now. You know you want it."

She glanced at the terrified man tied to the chair in the corner. He was already screwed, but if she did this to him, she might as well stick a knife in his heart. She was about to throw the jar on the floor in an act of defiance when there was a scuffling sound at the door. She looked up to see Cole enter, followed by another two demons dragging Quinn between them.

"Quinn!" she cried out, immediately choking back tears. "Oh God." Her friend looked terrible. Her hands were tied behind her back and a dirty rag was being used as a gag. Her hair was knotted and dull and streaks of dirt and sweat lined her bruised face. Her clothes were the same ones she had been wearing the last time Jenna had seen her a week ago, only they were even dirtier this time around, if that was even possible. Jenna could see bruises and cuts all over the exposed skin of her arms.

The blonde spun to face Crowley. "You bastard! You said you let her go! You were supposed to let her go!"

Crowley laughed, making his way over to where his henchmen had stopped, their struggling prisoner held firmly between them. "Now why would I go and do that?"

"You promised!"

"I'm a demon. News flash; we lie."

"But we had a deal! You're a crossroads demon. I brought back Ellsworth for you! You have to uphold your end of a deal. You have to!"

"Deals cost souls, you fool. I didn't ask for yours now, did I? Even if I had, you have to pucker up to seal the deal, sweetheart, and if I remember correctly, you spat in my face and told me you'd rather tongue a hippo's wart-covered arsehole. Your mistake."

"Please, Crowley, she can't take much more in her condition." The tears were flowing freely down Jenna's cheeks as she caught Quinn's eye. The ex-Army hunter was hurt and vulnerable but her eyes were still defiant, telling Jenna not to give in on her account with nothing more than a hard stare.

"We'll see about that, shall we?" Crowley gestured to his henchmen and one of them landed a fist in Quinn's side.

"No!" Jenna screamed as the brunette fell to her knees with a muffled sound of pain. She dropped the jar of blood and ran forward. She had almost reached Quinn when Cole grabbed her and pinned her arms behind her back.

She struggled but looked back up to see Crowley backhand the demon who had punched Quinn. "Not near the stomach, you imbecile!" he bellowed. He sucked in a deep breath and his temper dissipated as quickly as it had flared. He smiled and helped Quinn back to her feet with an almost gentle tug on the arm. "We wouldn't want to harm what could be our best leverage in a few months time now, would we?" he drawled. He reached forward and laid a hand on her swelling belly, caressing it tenderly. "The spawn of a Winchester could be very valuable in the times to come."

He then flicked open a knife and drew the flat edge of the blade across Quinn's stomach before looking back at Jenna. "Of course, if I don't get my army topside soon, I won't be needing the baby moose, will I? So…" He rotated the blade and sliced a cut across Quinn's upper arm, eliciting a muffled gasp from the gagged prisoner. "What'll it be, Jenna?"

"Okay," Jenna practically sobbed, her last thread of defiance gone. "I'll do it."

Crowley had won. After weeks of being tortured and threatened before moving on to Quinn being tortured and threatened in front of her, Jenna had been ready to make a stand. She had thought Quinn was safe and had been prepared to let them chop off the rest of her fingers and more, hopefully until she mercifully bled to death and got out of this nightmare once and for all, but now... seeing her best friend and only remaining family with blood running down her side and a knife pressed to the side of her face, fear for her unborn child clouding her tormented eyes, Jenna gave in.

"I'll do whatever you want."

**~X~X~X~X~X~ **

_**Author's Note**__: The End! Sorry, not a happy ending this time round. I figure most of you suspected Crowley was behind everything in this fic (after all, I gave plenty of hints like hellhound pets, a mansion, calling him a 'limey" and his motives - after all, he diid give the boys the Colt in season 5 because he secretly wanted Lucifer dead) but how many of ya were surprised by the mini-moose twist? Good or bad? That was why Quinn didn't die at the school and although I originally had no intention of doing a sequel for this one, while writing it the ideas just kept coming so if people are interested enough, I may write one set a few years in the future. Season 7 or 8 maybe? Or even season 6 – oh, soulless daddy, *shudder* Tyler would definitely be there too. _

_So anyway, I hope you were entertained by my fic and don't be shy to let me know what you thought! _


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